Dawn
by NovaTyrant
Summary: The Master Chief finds himself stranded on a strange new world filled with odd new allies and deadly new enemies. As he attempts to find a way back home, dark forces begin their quest for utter domination, content with the knowledge that nothing from their world can stop them. Rated T for light swearing, relationships, and mild violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. I'm NovaTyrant. I've read a lot of fanfiction on this site, and I've noticed that are almost no League of Legends – Halo crossovers on this site. Actually, there are none, I think, so I decided to write one myself. This is my first time writing fanfiction, so I would appreciate any constructive criticism/reviews/hates/etc. Hopefully less of the hates. This chapter is a little bit long and dull, because it's kinda like a Pilot/Prologue chapter. If there is any interest in this story, I'll continue writing this. If not, meh. So… Onwards?**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own League of Legends or Halo. I'm not rich.**

* * *

Chapter 1 – Dawn

Caitlyn was painstakingly going through the stack of reports on her desk that she had been putting off for the last couple of days. While she enjoyed working and enjoyed her job, filling out and filing away reports was something she never liked. Still, she understood the necessity of it, and so she never really complained. Not that there was anyone she could complain to – she was Sheriff. Kind of hard to complain to herself.

And so, it was when Caitlyn was on the sixteenth report in the stack of nearly one hundred that the Piltover Enforcer decided to slam open the Sheriff's office door and barge in uninvited.

"Cupcake, have you looked outside?" Vi asked, looking more agitated than usual. Or maybe that was how she usually was. Caitlyn was too busy to really care, anyways.

"No, I have not. I happen to be working, in case you haven't noticed. I recommend you do the same", Caitlyn answered sharply, massaging her temples. Vi always choose the worst times to bother her.

Naturally, Vi ignored her and went to open the blinds that covered the office's single window. Caitlyn always worked with the blinds down. It helped increase productivity.

"Tell me what you see," she asked, not looking at the Sheriff.

Caitlyn squinted out the window, not noticing anything immediately wrong. People were on the streets, looking at the sunrise as the red light of dawn made the horizon glo – wait. It was two in the afternoon. There was no sunrise at two, so there should be no red glow… that's the moment that Caitlyn realized something was very, very wrong.

Caitlyn approached the window, and Vi moved beside, looking up. Caitlyn followed her gaze, and found the object causing this second sunrise.

It was big, massive – larger than anything she had ever seen in the skies before. It was wreathed in a ball of flame. It was also falling towards Piltover.

As soon as she noticed that, Caitlyn turned away and moved to the hextech phone that rested on her desk. She began to make calls, ordering police units and firefighter teams around based on her quick in-head calculations of the objects trajectory. She also called the police stations logistics office, asking them to get an accurate estimation of where the object would land.

Vi just stood by the window the entire time Caitlyn made her calls. She couldn't read anything from Vi's body language, which was unusual.

As soon as Caitlyn finished her last call, she scooped up her rifle, pulled back the bolt to make sure there was a bullet in the chamber, and slung it around her back.

"What do you think it is?" asked Vi suddenly, without turning around. Caitlyn new she would never ask her so abrupt a question unless she had been thinking it over for some time, and Vi never thought things over. Bad sign.

"I don't really now. It does have the general shape of a missile, though, doesn't it?" Caitlyn responded, thinking it was perhaps an attack on Piltover.

Again, Vi answered quickly. "I don't think so. It's falling way too slowly. And it's on friggin fire. It must have fallen from, like, really, really high up. I didn't think anything could even get that high."

There was something in Vi's voice that Caitlyn didn't like. It was more than agitation, it was – damnit, she couldn't place it. If it had been anyone other than Vi, she would have said fear, but Vi wasn't scared of the unknown. She decide to put it down paranoia.

Vi looked back at her, and Caitlyn realized she was waiting for an answer. Just as She prepared to say something reassuring – or at least what she thought was reassuring - there was a knock at the still-open door.

Caitlyn turned and saw Staff Sergeant Derrick, holding several pieces of paper.

"Wow, if it isn't the big boy himself," said Vi with a smirk. Derrick chose to ignore the comment while Caitlyn just shoot Vi a scathing look.

"Sheriff, this is the trajectory Logistics came up with," Derrick said, handing Caitlyn the papers. "It seems that the… thing is going to overshoot Piltover and land just inside the Piltover Bay, by Dandy Jims' docks."

Shenodded, seeing that the papers did indeed match what Derrick said.

"We will need to call the docks and tell them to evacuate. And we'll need to redirect any units close by," Caitlyn said, placing the papers on her desk. After a second of consideration, she decided to pocket a few more magazines for her rifle.

Derrick smiled. "I've already got that covered," he said. "I called the docks, and it seems that it was maintenance day for them. If we're lucky, only some fish will get hurt."

"Poor fish," Vi mumbled, adjusting her gauntlets.

Caitlyn chose to ignore this comment also, knowing that Vi was just trying to be annoying.

"Thank you, Staff Sergeant. Get a squad car and two officers and meet us out front. We'll head down there ourselves," said Caitlyn.

Vi looked at Caitlyn as Derrick left.

"Why the hell are we going down there?" she asked, clearly disturbed by the prospect.

"Well," Caitlyn began, trying to think of a reason that Vi would accept, "If this IS an attack, and there ARE bad guys there, we would need to deal with them, no?"

Vi smiled.

* * *

The first thing She noticed was how large the thing was. It towered a couple of hundred meters above her, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Literally. The rest of the object was underwater.

"Damn, that thing is huge," exclaimed Vi. Caitlyn silently agreed with that assessment. Nothing in Valoran ever got that big.

Caitlyn looked around, noting the various officers setting up a perimeter. Already there were civilians gathering, trying to see the fallen object. None of them seemed nervous about having the giant block in the middle of the bay, but then again, nothing bad had happened yet.

She approached one of her sergeants, who was currently organizing a group of firefighters. She patiently waited for him to finish before tapping him on the shoulder.

He spun around. If he was nervous at his Sheriff's sudden appearance, he didn't show it

"Sheriff," he greeted, before jumping straight into business. "The entire area has been secured, and nothing seems to have come out of the object. The object is made of some form of metal, and could possibly be a building of some sort. There are rows of tubes on its sides – possibly weapons of an unknown type. There is also lettering on the side, F- O – R – W – A –R – D, space, U – N – T – O, space, D – A – W – N."

The Sergeant paused, allowing his Sheriff to make sense of what he told her. Caitlyn ran possibilities through her head – if this was an attack, enemies would have stormed out and

secured a beach head. If this was a weapon, it wold have exploded, and not missed the city. If this was a building, then it would not have fallen from the sky.

"And one more thing," the Sergeant added, "The building also landed on the edge of the bay shelf. There is a possibility that it will slide to the bottom of the bay."

Caitlyn grimaced. If the object fell, then it would be next to impossible to search it properly. Caitlyn dismissed the Sergeant and turned back to Vi, only to see her arguing with… a Yordle?

Caitlyn walked as fast as she could, silently praying Vi would not punch the Yordle.

"Would you just shut up?" asked Vi in a voice that was slightly lower than a shout. "Or I'll make you"

"Vi, we do not punch good people. Bad people, yes. Good people, no. Remember?" Caitlyn said, slightly mockingly.

"I'm not five, cupcake," Vi answered hotly.

Caitlyn looked down at the yordle, preparing to apologize for Vi's rude behaviour, but stopped when she realized who the Yordle was.

"Professor Heimerdinger?" She asked, slightly confused. She was aware that Heimerdinger was in town, but how had he gotten here so quickly?

"Hello Sheriff! You're just the person I have been looking for. I tried to ask your partner as to your whereabouts, but she was unable to respond to my query due to her substandard intelligence," Heimerdinger exclaimed.

Vi just blinked, unsure if she had just been insulted or not.

"Cupcake, did he just insult me?" she asked.

Caitlyn ignored her, focusing on Heimerdinger instead. "What brings you down here, professor?"

"Shorty, did you just insult me?" Vi asked Heimerdinger, looking agitated.

"Why, I'm here to investigate the Object, of course!" The Professor exclaimed, clearly excited. He took out some sort of… box, and began brandishing it around. "My HexScandonger G-2 has detected a treasure trove of technology onboard, but no hextech signals! It's unprecedented! Remarkable! It must be studied immediately!"

Caitlyn thought about that for a few moments. If Heimerdinger was right about there being new technology on inside the Object, then time was even more of a factor than before.

"Vi," Caitlyn said. "Go ask Staff Sergeant Derrick to find us an entrance into that big metal box. We're going in".

"I could always just make us a door, cupcake"

"Vi, please. I'd rather search the thing while its still in one piece"

Vi smirked, then grew serious, "okay, I'm on it. But seriously, did he insult me?"

* * *

It really didn't take long at all to find an entrance. There were several small doors on one of the sides of the metal box. A police gunboat carried Caitlyn, Vi, Heimerdinger, several police officers and a few of Heimerdinger's scientists there. In a matter of moments the passengers were disembarked and entered the Object.

Vi slipped past Caitlyn, taking point. The rest of the officers were in the back. The hallway they walked through dark, but not enough that it was impossible to see. The floor was actually metal grating, and Caitlyn could see wires and tubes running beneath it.

They walked the length of the corridor until they came to a hatch. Caitlyn nodded to Vi and the enforcer opened the door in a classic breach style. Caitlyn went in; gun raised, and found herself in a large room, filled with strange yet familiar objects.

Heimerdinger pushed past both of them. "Just as I thought! We were in a maintenance corridor, and this is the vehicle bay!" He turned to his scientists and began ordering them around, telling them what to study.

Caitlyn wondered how the inventor had figured that out. She had been assuming the thing was a large metal box.

"Shit, Cait, take a look at this," said Vi. She had a gauntlet resting on the hood of a boxy looking vehicle.

"It looks like a Motorcar, but lacks all of the elegance," Caitlyn said with distaste.

"Yeah, but check this out! This thing on the back looks like an oversized minigun!" Vi said excitedly. Vi mimicked pulling the trigger and made explosion noises. Caitlyn just rolled her eyes.

"It is my belief that these are not made for recreational uses, but for combat," said Heimerdinger from behind Caitlyn.

Caitlyn looked down at the Yordle. "Why would anyone need something like this? Do you think its Noxian?"

Heimerdinger shook his head. "If this was Noxian, it would have some sort of hextech. This is something else entirely." He brought out his scanner again. "I have discovered something

interesting. I've detected a signal originating from deeper in the ship. It isn't hextech, so I can't tell what it is. It does appear to be rather weak, though, so it's unlikely it is an alarm."

Caitlyn thought about it for a moment. While she wasn't going to rule out the possibility that it was an alarm, it did not seem likely. The other possibility was that it was a request for help, and that would mean someone was alive.

"Alright, we are going to go check this signal out," Caitlyn said, nodding to both Vi and Heimerdinger.

Vi just made a sighing noise while Heimerdinger shook with excitement. Caitlyn had her officers set up a perimeter around the scientists, and then Caitlyn, Heimerdinger and a couple of scientists set off immediately.

Contrary to what Heimerdinger had said, they didn't have to travel far to find the origin of the signal. They found themselves in a room lined with pods on either side of the walls. There appeared to be only frost inside of them. There was debris scattered all across the floor, and there were burn marks on the walls. It looked as if the room had gone through a fire.

"Vi, don't touch anything," Caitlyn said as Vi leaned on a particularly frozen pod.

"That's odd," Heimerdinger said. "I can't find anything that would give off a signal. There should have been – "

He was cut short by a hissing noise. Cold, white vapour flooded the room.

"I swear I didn't touch nothin'!" Vi shouted, backing away from the pod she had been leaning on just moments before.

The hissing and vapour stopped just as soon as it started, though.

"Ah, seems to be some sort of defrosting procedure. I do the same with some of my biological samples at the laboratory," the professor explained.

The pod began to open, and they all peered inside.

Out of everything Vi and Caitlyn had been prepared to see, they did not except a giant in green armour to step out of the pod. He was at least a head taller than Vi, and his armour was like nothing the Sheriff had ever seen. It was bulkier and more advanced than any hextech armour in Piltover. Or Valoran, for that matter.

The trio stared at it, unsure of what to do.

It was the giant that broke the silence, speaking in a baritone voice.

"I'm Spartan 117 Master Chief Petty Officer of the UNSC _Forward Unto Dawn_. Are you a UNSC recovery team?"

Vi decided to respond by throwing a punch at the Spartans chest.

* * *

**So, uh... tell me what you think? Or don't, totally up to you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**'Sup (not the lane). Decided to upload a second chapter and see how that goes, because apparently this fic isn't a bust (yet). Ah, first thing, if the Chief ever comes across as overly OOC, please let me know. I'm finding it a little bit hard writing the dialogue for the Chief when he's talking to civilians because the novels give me no framework to work off of. Also, the first chapter was, again, just a prologue chapter, so I skipped out o a lot of the Master Chief's... abilities, if you know what I mean. That stuffs in this chapter. **

**So... forwards?**

* * *

Chapter 2 - The Horse You Rode In On

Caitlyn didn't understand what just happened. She saw Vi throw the punch, and was sure that would be the end of the armoured being – the Spartan - but instead Vi was thrown across the room. It all happened in the time it took Caitlyn to blink.

She saw the Spartan turn, scanning the room, and then turning back to her. It was then that she noticed the familiar weight of her rifle in her hands.

Should she shoot? She was nothing if not practical, and never surrendered, but she wasn't entirely sure if the bullet would even do anything to the Spartan. It had taken out Vi, after all. And even if it did, she would only have time for one shoot, since they were so close.

Caitlyn saw the Spartan tense, and she made a decision.

She lowered her gun to the floor, and raised her palms to it… him?

She only hoped it wouldn't rip her head off.

* * *

The Master Chief didn't know what to do.

He had woken up after his cryotube went through emergency de-frosting procedures. He had heard voices, possibly female, outside of the tube, but none of them sounded like Cortana. He had emerged from the cryotube slowly, aware of his reduced muscle mass. Nearly 40%. Must have been out for a while.

The other occupants of the room were not what he expected at all.

One was small, maybe a dwarf human of some sort, with wild hair.

The other two were both female, one wearing a purple outfit with a top hat, and the other had pink hair and work patchwork armour.

He was unsure of what to say, so he just opted with the standered procedure of name, rank, and number. "I'm Spartan 117 Master Chief of the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn. Are you a UNSC recovery team?"

The response was also something the Chief did not expect.

A punch to the face.

Chief had easily sidestepped the blow, hastily aimed as it was. He had then used his palm to push his assailant across the room, but he had miscalculated his reduced strength, and the blow had launched her to the other end instead of killing her outright.

The Chief had then scanned the room, taking note of exits. He also noticed that his radar had picked up two yellow, neutral signals outside the door, but he knew that that could mean anything from civilians to enemies without an IFF, so he decided to categorize them as hostiles.

He had turned his attention back to the woman in purple. Obviously an accomplice of insurrectionist that had just punched him. She held an odd, old-fashion rifle and radiated an aura of authority. Knowing he wouldn't have the time to reach for his weapons, he had tensed himself for a fight, and then the weirdest thing happened. She had put the gun down.

"I'm Caitlyn, Sheriff of Piltover, and we mean you no harm," the woman, now identified as Caitlyn, had said.

That's when Chief became confused.

Insurrectionists had never surrendered before, let alone said they meant him – a Spartan – no harm. He was their number one enemy - aside from the government, of course. Chief grimaced under his helmet. He liked it when everything was clear cut. Being political wasn't his strong suit.

he _could _kill them all, he reasoned this was like a monitor situation. Use them for what he needed, kill them if they became a problem._  
_

He decided to treat these people as potential friendlies instead of hostiles – for the moment, anyways.

He glanced to his left, and noted that the pink haired woman was just getting up.

The Sheriff followed his gaze and misunderstood it. "I apologize for my partner's behavior, she gets… excited when she meets new people."

The Chief looked back at her. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. "Is there a UNSC base on planet? I need to contact my superiors immediately."

The Sheriff furrowed her brows at the Chief's sudden change in demeanor. "I'm not sure what a… UNSC is," she said. "And what do you mean by planet?"

Chief was actually surprised at that, and it took a lot to surprise him. No idea what the UNSC was? No concept of planets? Where was he, exactly?

really, the only possibility was an insurrectionist base, but that didn't fit with their over all demeanor.

He prepared to ask her, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt the floor beneath his feet shift.

The other three people in the room stumbled forwards a bit, but the Chief remained upright, a testament to his Spartan abilities. And his magnetically locked boots.

"What the fuck was that?" The pink-haired woman asked.

The Sheriff looked at the small man.

The small man shrugged. "The structure is probably beginning to slide down. I did say time was of the essence."

"Did he?" the pink haired woman muttered under her breath.

"All right then," the Sherriff began, turning to pink-hair. "Vi, radio the officers and tell them to evacuate immediately."

"But what about all the technology on board!" The small man shouted.

"Our lives are more important than technology," She replied. She turned to the Chief. "I'm sure you have questions for us, and we definitely have questions for you, but this block is currently sliding down a cliff and will soon be at the bottom of the bay. It would be best if you came with us, and we can continue this conversation later."

The Chief nodded. He had to admit, she made sense. He turned around and grabbed his Assault Rifle and Magnum from where he had stashed them before going into Cryo. He also grabbed as much ammo as he could carry.

He checked the ammo counter on his AR – full. He moved his free hand to the back of his helmet, making sure Cortanas chip was secu –

He didn't have her chip.

He called out her name, and got no response.

He looked around the room, ignoring the looks the others gave him. His gaze alighted on a large, cylindrical object on the floor.

The projector he had plugged Cortana into.

He moved towards it, turning it over. The entire front half of the projector was dented in. He tried to remove the chip, with no success. He ran his finger down the seam in the front, going about two – thirds of the way down. He punched the metal lightly, making a small gap in the seam. While the gap was too small for his fingers, it was just big enough for his combat knife. He jammed it in and turned, opening up the projector.

His heart fell.

The insides were burned. The inner plating was scorched and warped. The entire thing must have gone through an electrical fire.

He carefully extracted Cortana's memory chip. It was bent at a thirty degree angle and lacked the blue glow that usually danced along its surface.

The Chief realized he had a choice to make. He could leave the ship with the other three, or take his chances and stay, and try to comb through the ships' systems before it sank.

He looked at the deactivated computer screen mounted on the wall.

"Let's go"

* * *

They had all made it back to the Sheriff's office without incident. No one had said a word. They all just stared at the Chief as he, in turn, stared at the _Dawn, _which slowly sank beneath the waves.

"What should we call you?" asked the Sheriff. She had told the Chief to call her Caitlyn, though he didn't really like the informality.

"Chief," was his curt response. He stood four paces in front of the desk, as he had been taught to do while addressing superior officers. Not that the Sheriff – Caitlyn – was superior.

"Why don't you take a seat," the Sheriff offered.

The Chief looked at the chair for a moment. "It won't hold my weight."

She blinked, surprised. "...How much do you weigh?"

He considered not answering, but his weight wasn't deemed forbidden knowledge by ONI."1000 pounds."

"Holy shit, Tin man, are you even alive under there?" Vi asked. "Or are you, like, one of Jayce's shitty automatons?"

Caitlyn gave Vi a sharp glance.

"I'm human," said Chief. He was finding this experience disturbing. Nothing he had seen so far indicated that this city – or its people - had contact with the galactic community. It was all rather… steampunk.

"Yes, yes," said Heimerdinger. "Some sort of enhanced human, yes?"

Chief looked squarely at the little one and gave a small nod. Clearly, this one was much smarter than he had initially believed. He would need to watch it more closely.

"I must also ask, what does your suit run on? There is no hextech of any kind on it."

"That's classified," Chief responded, and then paused. Heimerdinger had mentioned something called hextech. Chief didn't like the sound of it. It gave him the same feeling the Halo rings did. "Hextech… what is that?"

Vi laughed. "Are you serious, Tin Man? You would have to be living under a rock to not know what Hextech is!"

Heimerdinger smiled, as if he was privy to an inside joke. "Hextech is the combination of technology and magic."

"No such thing as magic," said the Master Chief. At this point, he was ready to leave the room. But he needed more information, unreal as it may sound.

Vi and Caitlyn looked at the Chief through narrowed eyes. Heimerdinger smiled wider.

"Then my theory is correct," he said. "Magic is everywhere in this world. It is quite common. The only way you wouldn't know about it is if you were living under a really big rock – although Skarner may take offense to that – or you're not from this world."

Chief looked at Heimerdinger. Well, that confirmed his suspicion that they had no contact with the galactic community. He gave a small nod.

"I'm also assuming, then, that the thing that brought you here is some sort of war vessel?"

Chief nodded again. "A UNSC Charon class light frigate."

"So… what? A flying ship?" Vi asked, a smirk on her face.

"A space ship," Caitlyn responded. She seemed to understand what was going on.

Vi looked astounded.

"Am I also correct to assume that the UNSC would be your government?" Heimerdinger asked. Clearly he wanted as much information as possible. Just like Cortana, Chief thought.

Heimerdinger didn't wait for an answer, though. He kept asking questions. "And a Spartan is a soldier of some kind, yes?"

The Master Chief hesitated, not sure how much he should say. "A Super Soldier," He decided to say. It was the easiest thing to say, and it seemed to satisfy Heimerdinger.

The other two occupants of the room went dead silent.

"Would you... mind stepping out for a bit?" asked Caitlyn. She looked disturbed.

Chief nodded, and stepped outside. It didn't really matter, though. He was more than capable of hearing them through the door.

"We can't keep him here." That was Caitlyn's voice.

"But the scientific possibilities-" Heimerdinger responded.

"No. If Noxus or Demacia found out we were keeping an space-faring super soldier in the city, they would be furious. And would think we're gearing up for war."

"So what? Let them come. We'll crush 'em," Vi said.

"Bad, bad idea. Bandle City would also be suspected and attacked. Also, if Noxus, or divines forbid, Zaun, got their hands on the Master Chief…." Heimerding trailed off, as if the implications were clear.

For the other two, they were. Silence descended.

"We could hide it," said Vi.

He heard a snort, presumably from Caitlyn. "There are spies _everywhere. _Do you really think there's anywhere we can hide him?"

"So what? Do we kill him?" Vi asked. She sounded eager. Chief had to give her credit – she was tough. And foolhardy.

"The Institute of War would be most interested in him. The Institute is neutral ground, so he would be safe there. And I'm sure the summoners would enjoy having a super-soldier around," Caitlyn said. "It would be like Kayle and Morgana. They don't belong to any city-state, and they live year-round in the Institute itself."

"Having him join the league would be the best option, I guess. Although science would certainly suffer for it," Heimerdinger said ruefully, before adding, "and we should not forget that the Summoners are his only hope to get back home, since we have no space flight capable craft."

"The summoners could do that portal shit, yeah," said Vi, sounding sad that she couldn't pummel anyone.

"Okay then. It would be best if we handled this immediately, so I don't have to report it to the Governor. He would be less than anxious to part with a super – solider," Caitlyn said.

There was the sound of footsteps – armoured boots, Chief noted – as someone made their way to the door.

The Chief opened it first, revealing a somewhat surprised looking Vi.

"Slow down there, Tinny," she said.

Caitlyn opened her mouth, ready to explain, but The Chief stopped her.

"I heard everything, and I agree. I need to report in immediately."

Caitlyn closed her mouth. "These walls are sound-proof," she said.

The Chief shrugged, which was no mean feat for someone wearing powered assault armour.

Cailtyn rubbed her eyes. "Vi, would you be so kind as to show the Master Chief to the barracks? It would be best for him to wait things out there."

"Come along, Tinny." Vi walked through the door without even looking at the Chief. He followed without a word.

Caitlyn gave out a great sigh, and Heimerdinger gave her a knowing glance. She reached over and grabbed the phone lying on her desk.

It glowed a faint pink light as she grabbed it. She whispered a name into the pad near the center, and it glowed brighter.

Heimerdinger left the room, most likely to go study whatever his scientists were able to bring back.

"Hello, High Councillor Kolminye? I have the most interesting proposition for you…"

* * *

**Don't kill me plox. **

**So... The Chief isn't with Cortana. Originally I had written this and planned the story with the two together, but then it was brought to y attention that the Chief cant be OP compared to League champs, and that duo is the definition of OP. They kick ass and take names, and by kick ass I mean destroy superweapons capable of galactic genocide, rek covenant fleets and obliterate ground armies. And not to mention the fact that there would be no character development or interactions with other people at all if they were together. I felt this would make it easier for me to write.**

**Ehhhh... so, as always, review if there's something i can improve on. Or rather, for the second time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**'ello. **

**Someone said they wanted more, so here we go.**

**J****ust wanted to say thank you to all the people that have reviewed, its really helps me improve. I'm still not so good at this. Other than that, this story finally has some action it it, in the from of Chief's reflection.**

**Forwards!**

* * *

Chapter 3 – Forward Unto… the Institute of War?

Chief eyed the carriage dubiously.

"It'll hold your weight, I promise," said Heimerdinger. "It's been magically enchanted. It can hold someone three times your weight."

Chief continued to look at the carriage. At first he had been opposed to any notion that magic existed – then Vi had shown him a league match on the barracks television. He quickly changed his opinion after seeing a purple angel fighting against a werewolf.

That didn't mean he had to trust the stuff, though.

He tested the carriage with his foot. It held.

The carriage itself was very odd in design. While the main cabin and design was similar to that of carriages he had seen in pictures from museums before, that was were the similarities ended. This carriage had no wheels, instead having odd pipes that glowed vivid colours - fuel or magick? - that connected to a generator on the back. A crystal the size of his fist was set into it, slowly pulsing rings of energy that caused static to run down his shields.

After sighing internally, the Chief got in, followed by Vi and Caitlyn. Heimerdinger said he was going to stay behind to study the now submerged _Forward Unto_ _Dawn. _

Chief had been hesitant at first to allow the scientist to study the _Dawn, _but he needed their co-operation if he was going to get off planet. Also, the _Dawns _computers were waterlogged, so it was unlikely he could find anything that would compromise the UNSC.

Caitlyn nodded to the driver, and they set off.

Both Caitlyn and Vi tried to ask the Master Chief questions, start a conversation, but he either gave monosyllabic answers, or didn't answer at all.

They assumed that he was trying to ignore them, since all he did was stare out the window and clutch a tiny chip in his hands.

He wasn't, though. Chief was actually trying to compile everything he learned and saw into a database – it would give him a tactical advantage, since he wasn't on familiar ground. He also lacked connection to the central ONI database that he usually relied on.

The Chief looked down at the chip in his hand and sighed inaudibly. If Cortana were here, this would be much easier for him. It was his duty to protect her, and he'd failed.

He missed her.

The Chief looked out the window and remembered CPO Mendez telling the Spartans not to become too attached to equipment. Chief had never really thought of Cortana in that way. He wondered if she had thought of him as equipment.

"Hey, Tin Man. Why do you keep holding that piece of metal?" asked Vi, laughing. "You're holding on to it like it's a pet or something."

Caitlyn turned to reprimand Vi, no excepting their other passenger to speak.

"She was my partner," he said. He looked from Vi to Caitlyn, then back. "She… died."

Vi didn't stop smirking, but her gaze lacked any humor. Caitlyn gazed at VI for a moment before looking down at her feet.

Chief stowed the chip in one of his armour compartments, then returned to staring out the window. The rest of the trip was in silence.

Eventually, they reached the large city that surrounded the Institute, though Chief did not consider it much of a city. By UNSC standards, this was a small town. In the distance, Chief could see white towers.

_The Institute,_ he thought.

The roads were surprisingly uncrowded. Then again, it was nearing evening and people were most likely indoors.

The few people that were out, however, waved at the carriage and tried to take a peek through the windows, knowing that there were League Champions inside. Caitlyn had made sure the windows were tinted, though. She wanted to keep Chief's identity a secret for now.

Chief was not really sure if it even mattered. In a world with angels and werewolves, would a solitary Spartan even make a difference? Would anyone even care?

The carriage stopped.

Chief looked out the window at the large building before him. It was large, made of white stone blocks. The building, despite its warlike name, looked like it was built for luxury. To the Chief, it was the nicest building he had ever seen. Not that he had seen many civilian buildings; the only ones he had ever seen in detail were the ones what the Covenant had already destroyed.

"Chief," Caitlyn said, drawing his attention. "The Summoners agreed to meet you, but that doesn't mean you're a champion yet. Through the entrance there you will find the reflecting chamber. When you get in there, you will be tested."

Vi laughed.

"I apologize that I can't tell you more, but it's against the rules to do so. Just answer truthfully, and you should do fine."

Chief nodded, but he did not really care. It wouldn't be any worse than basic training.

He got out and walked down the path. He didn't look back.

Once inside, he was able to marvel at the true beauty of the place. It wasn't the exquisitely carved walls, or the gold filigree that traced a path along the floor that grabbed his attention, it was the layout. The corridor looked harmless enough, made for luxury, but his trained eye saw better. He could see chokepoints and lookout areas, gaps in the wall and perfect places for ambushes. This wasn't some hotel for the famous; it was a bunker.

The Chief found himself worrying about the Summoners. The last thing he needed was magically powerful dictators telling him what to do.

Eventually, Chief found himself in front of two large marble doors, each one inlaid with precious stones. Above the door an inscription read _the truest opponent lies within. _He allowed himself to smile briefly. If Cortana were here, she would have driven him crazy telling him all the possible meanings.

But she wasn't here, so the Chief had to rely on instinct and training.

He drew his assault rifle and opened the door with his left shoulder, aiming his rifle into the room.

Empty.

He stepped inside. It was pitch black.

He tried turning on his helmets lamp, but it could not pierce the blackness that pressed in from all sides.

He cycled through his helmets' different visor modes, to no success.

He heard the door close behind him.

He blinked, and opened his eyes to a blue sky and a bright sun. He realized he was on his back, helmet off. Above him two UNSC Shortswords raced forwards, chasing banshees.

He could hear the scream of plasma nearby.

He tried to use his right hand to block out the sun, and then looked around for his helmet.

There.

He reached out for it and put it on his head. Immediately he was assaulted by the sound of com chatter.

He couldn't make heads or tails of it – too much static.

"Chief?" he thought he heard someone ask. It sounded like Johnson, but he wasn't too sure. Too much white noise.

Chief's eyes alighted on his assault rifle as someone called the general order to regroup.

Chief stood up and placed the assault rifle on his back. In the distance he could see the dome of energy created by the ark portal. UNSC ships were clashing with Covenant destroyers above it.

Another wave of plasma mortars launched from within the dome.

"Got any sign of the Chief?" definitely Johnson.

"Negative," a marine replied. "I think we lost him."

Chief blinked on the icon in the corner of his HUD and opened his comm. "Not yet," he said.

He grabbed a bubble shield generator from his side and deployed it. At that very moment, plasma mortars descended. They impacted around him, instantly vaporizing his mongoose and turning the sand into glass. One mortar hit the shield, but nothing happened.

As soon as the last mortar landed, Chief began to sprint. He locked his magnum to his hip and drew his assault rifle.

He sidestepped a Banshee bomb and ran right up to the edge of the cliff.

Below was a group of Brutes, a chieftain, and four Wraiths.

Chief didn't have time to think; he jumped.

He landed right on top of one brute, killing it instantly. He fired a burst at the one beside him, the bullets breaking its skull.

He ducked under the blow of another brute, and slide around it. He gripped its head and pulled. There was a snap.

He held up its body and blocked a volley of spikes that had been aimed at his head.

He returned fire, cutting down two more of the brutes.

The Master Chief looked to his left, and frowned. The leftmost wraith had a clear shot now.

He rolled to the right, towards the brutes, successfully avoiding turrets fire. He placed his now empty rifle on his back and drew a plasma grenade –his last, he noted- and threw it.

It detonated, and, by luck, started a chain reaction in the vehicles plasma core. The Wraith careened wildly to the side, smashed into the other Wraith, and detonated, vaporizing the left flank instantly.

The Chieftain, undisturbed by the raining debris, ran at the Chief.

He ducked under its blow and sprang to the side.

He then realized he was in a bad position: Wraiths to his left, Chieftain to his back, and Brutes ahead.

Time slowed down into a familiar state called 'Spartan Time'. Spartan Time was a state where a Spartan perceived time at a fraction of its usual pace.

Chief began to think wildly. He could tackle the Chieftain – but if he killed it, the wraiths would be on him.

He could not charge the Wraiths as this would leave him open to crossfire.

He could only charge the Brutes.

Time began to speed up.

Chief could see the eagerness in the eyes of the brutes; one of them began to depress the trigger on his brute shot.

The Chief had an idea. He had done something once before, on his first test run with Cortana. It was risky, but he had always been lucky.

The brute fired his weapon.

Instead of springing aside, Chief readied himself. At the last second he slapped the projectile aside, into the sand. It exploded, draining his shields immediately.

More importantly, it threw up a cloud of sand.

Chief used the cloud to run at the Wraiths. He dived on the first on, pummelled the driver, shot the passenger, then did the same to the second. With the tanks out of commission, Chief felt more confident.

"DEMON!" roared the Brute Chieftain as it began to run towards the Master Chief.

Chief considered his options. His AR was out of ammo, his magnum was unlikely to put down the Brute before it hit him, and his combat knife was relatively useless against a gravity hammer.

He decided to do things the old fashioned way – he charged it.

The Brute swung the hammer around in an arc, heaved it above his head, and slammed it down towards the Chief.

The Chief rolled to the left, then jumped onto the hammer and ran up the haft, onto the Chieftains chest, and then kicked, hitting the Chieftain in the head and back flipping off.

Chief landed on all fours as the Brute reeled back from the blow. The Chieftains hands left the hammer, and that was all the opening the Spartan needed.

He grabbed the hammer, spun it around, and slammed it against the Brute.

At this range, the hammer would instantly kill it. The gravity field emitted by the head would crush every bone in the Brutes chest.

Except the blow didn't land.

The Chieftain caught it, and smiled.

The Chief was confused. Had he miscalculated? Was the hammer out of charge?

No, that wasn't it.

The Chief tilted his head and understood.

"Illusion?" he asked, and got a nod in return. At once, the environment around him began to fade out like an old movie reel.

"Why do you want to join the league?" asked the Chieftain.

"I need to go back. You're the only ones capable of that."

The Chieftain nodded as if the answer satisfied him. "How does it feel, exposing you mind?"

Chief tilted his head and shrugged. "Last occupant was more snarky."

The Chieftain raised its eyebrows in… surprise, maybe? If really had searched his mind, it would know all about Cortana. Maybe it was just the way he responded.

They looked at each other for a moment as the illusion continued to decay around them.

"We can try and help you, but this will not be easy. We expect some sort of… compensation, on your part."

The Chief suddenly found himself disliking summoners. Although, if he was honest with himself, he was already expecting this.

"We would like you to stay on as a league champion for a time. Political parties have already begun to doubt our ability to keep people safe. It would be most welcome to have an experienced soldier on our side," said the Chieftain. "It would certainly give us more incentive to help you if you help us."

The Chief understood the underlying message.

He nodded his agreement. He really didn't see another way. And really, these people would not be any worse than Colonel Ackerson.

"One thing, though," said Chief. "I want my stuff from aboard the _Dawn._"

"That can be arranged," said the Chieftain/Summoner as the vision faded completely.

The Master Chief stood in the dark room, alone. He put his AR on his back.

A column of light spilled from the doors opening across from him, cutting thorough the oppressive darkness.

He walked through, and didn't look back.

* * *

**So if anyone was wondering (not that I would except anyone to) the fighting scene was from Halo 3's E3 trailer, which you guys should watch, because its badass. The fight against the Chieftan was form Halo 4's opening cutscene/prologue things.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again. I managed to rush out another chapter, and I think i'll be able to update twice a week if i work at this pace.**

**Anyways, for the sake of clarity, I wanted to say some things. If you don't care about clarity, please, skip this.**

**So, this story takes place at the current state of the league lore, so all the champions are part of the institute and all major wars are over. Secondly, the Master Chief's age tends to be a rather obscure thing. In the 343 lore, he is roughly 45 at the events of Halo 4, and roughly 39 at the end Halo 3. I decided to knock off 4 years from his age because of slipspace travel, which would cause him not to age. According to the novel Contact Harvest, it took several months (I think 3) for a very very fast ONI prowler to make it from Harvest (one of the outermost colonies) to Reach, the military might of the inner colonies. any UNSC military ship the CHief served on would be at least twice as slow, so it makes sense that 5 years of a 25 year war were spent travelling to and from battle zones.**

**So Chief's biologically 35, a multiple of 7. Chronologically... well, that we don't know. yet.**

**GO GO GO! **

* * *

Chapter 4 - Sorry, were you in the middle of something?

The Master Chief walked through the halls, mapping it all out in his database. He paused to look out a window at the city. It was later than he had expected, and the city was silent. Clearly he had been in the reflection chamber for a while.

"Sir?" said a small voice from behind him.

The Chief turned, startled that his motion sensor hadn't detected any movement. He'd have to check it later.

The voice had come from a boy, half the Chief's height, with sand blond hair and a round face.

"I'm Reighlen. I've been assigned as your, uh, assistant," he said with a small smile. "It's all part of my Summoner training, you see, and I'm really-"

"I don't need an assistant," Chief said with finality. He began to leave.

"Wait! The summoners said you would say that, and I'm s-"

"I don't want an assistant." The Chief stopped in the middle of an intersection.

"I can help! I was told you were new, and I can help you get acquainted here! Please? I really need to do this, if I don't I can't be a real s-"

"Can you get maps?" asked the Chief. It would be useful for him to have knowledge of the layout of the land. It was a serious tactical weakness not to.

The boy furrowed his brow. "Maps?"

"Maps of the institute, of the land, of the cities, anything."

The boy blinked, and then nodded vigorously. "Sure, sure, I can get all those."

The Chief began to walk again, then stopped. "My room?" he asked without looking over his shoulder.

"Uh… Its wing C, room 19. I think. Probably. Yeah, that's it."

The Chief changed directions and kept walking.

"Oh yeah, the Summoners also told me to tell you that the cafeteria would still be serving food at this hour."

The Chief changed directions once again and kept walking.

"I can show you whe-"

"No," said the Chief, and he continued to follow the signs.

The mess hall wasn't as empty as the Chief would have liked. Apparently, Champions still ate food at this hour.

The Chief walked in and immediately began to commit the layout of the room to memory. Two entrances, several tables, seven large windows, a long counter for food.

_This room wouldn't last a firefight,_ he thought.

He then started to examine the occupants of the room, making sure none were a threat.

All of the occupants were human, with the exception of a large armadillo.

At one of the tables in the corner were two people swathed in ninja-looking cloth. They didn't even glance his way.

The table in the middle housed a group of people having a loud debate. One of the people, a man with spiked black hair and a red cloak, looked at him with narrowed eyes.

The table closest to the entrance held four people, all talking calmly. They all turned to stare at him. The small blonde at the table nudged the young man sitting beside her, and he turned back to the regal looking man at the other end.

The Chief decided to categorize them all as hostiles. It was easier that way.

He began to walk towards the food counter, weaving his way through the haphazardly placed tables.

He grabbed a plate, and as he looked at the food, his stomach growled powerfully. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.

He reached out to grab some meat, and stopped. He really couldn't decide what he wanted; it all looked so good. The past year all he had eaten was Spartan rations and MRE's.

He decided to grab a bit of everything.

As soon as his plate was piled high and he grabbed something to drink, he left. He wanted to have as little contact as possible with the Champions of this place.

He found his room as quickly as possible; making sure his food didn't go cold. Not that he wouldn't eat it cold – it just seemed a shame not to eat it hot.

He opened the door, stepped inside, and stood in awe.

The room was more of an apartment than a room. The main area was a living room, complete with a couch, a desk, and a television set. The room adjoining it was an open concept kitchen. The two doors on the other side led to the washroom and bedroom respectively.

While the other Champions of the league may not have found this fancy, to the Chief, this was five star luxury. He had never been in a place like this – the most comfort he got was a couple hours sleep in a metal bed in a military barracks.

He would need to make some changes, though.

After he had eaten, the Chief began to fortify his new home. He re-arranged the living room furniture, having it all face away from the door, giving him the option to use it as cover should someone enter from that way. He did the same with his bed, making sure it was easily flippable. The windows were another matter. He wasn't sure if they could withstand a bullet, so he would need to find some way to reinforce them. In the meantime, he just settled on locking them.

What now?

The Chief eyed the shower. He decided that it couldn't hurt to try it out. It had been a while, after all. He wouldn't want Cortana to –

He sighed. Memories began to rush back to him, making it hard to concentrate.

He tried to distract himself with the warm water of the shower, but she wouldn't leave his mind. The Spartan finished quicker than he liked and padded in the next room, deciding to shave in the morning. It had been a long time since he'd done that.

He grabbed his dog tags. They were simple, but the only real thing he owned. His armour wasn't even his own property.

He unlocked the chain and slide Cortana's chip onto it. He had bent it back into shape, and all it lacked was its old blue glow. He locked the chain back around his neck.

The Chief grabbed his helmet and began the process of opening it up. He found the mirrors which composed the motion sensor system, and noted that they were iced over.

_That's what's preventing them from working, _he thought.

He got to work on cleaning them, using a cloth from the shower and warm water from the kitchen, then re-assembled his helmet.

What to do now?

He grabbed his AR and magnum and began the process of taking them a part, cleaning them, and then putting them back together. While he didn't have anything to oil them down with, he reckoned that that they would be just fine. The UNSC built their gear sturdy. He placed them on his desk, then glanced over at his armour. It was in some pretty bad shape, but that was something that couldn't be so easily fixed. He would have to wait until he was back in UNSC controlled space.

He glanced at the time on the odd, hextech clock mounted on the wall. It was late, but he didn't even feel tired.

The Chief glanced around the room, then grabbed the clock and opened it up.

He could see gears and miniature steam valves inside, but nothing like he had ever seen. Most of the pieces didn't even connect. There were minuscule pipes that, just like the carriage, pumped some sort of glowing liquid - or magic - around. In the center of the mechanism was a small indentation that had a small crystal set into it. Every time it sparked, energy was sent coursing through the parts and was seemingly absorbed by them.

Chief placed it back on the wall. While he was curious, he didn't know a single thing about hextech and didn't want to cause the clock to explode.

After a few more minutes of looking up at the ceiling, doing nothing, the Chief decided to go back out. He remembered some signs pointing to a training room. He could go there, see what kind of stuff they have to work out with.

He began the long process of putting his armour back on, then stepped outside.

The Institute was quiet. He walked down the halls, silent as death despite the bulk of his armour.

He followed the signs all the way to the training room. The lights appeared to be on.

_Maybe that's how it's supposed to be,_ he thought. He knew UNSC training rooms always kept the lights on to encourage training. It was important to stay in peak physical condition.

He walked in, and found that he was wrong. In the center of the massive space was a woman, some years younger than the Chief. She had white hair and seemed to be going through some motions with a short sword.

The motions were precise, controlled, and it was quite beautiful. For the Chief, it was also maddeningly familiar. The underlying technique of the motions was similar to the motions he and his Spartans went through when training with large weapons; the same technique he used every time he picked up a gravity hammer.

But why do it with a short sword?

Upon closer inspection, the Chief realized the sword was actually broken. It was made of black stone inlaid with green runes, and it appeared to be quite broad.

That made more sense. She was practicing the technique she used to use back when her sword was whole.

Chief stared for a few more moments, then decided to go back to his room. He was not interest in training with someone else present.

The woman froze and turned slowly, as if sensing his presence, which was a feat in and of itself. As soon as she saw the Chief, her eyes widened.

The Chief realized he must have scared her. He did make a rather imposing sight in his battle-scarred armour. He hadn't been called The Demon for nothing.

"Sorry," he said. "I was unaware anyone was here."

She jerked her head back, as if not expecting him to speak. Or maybe she hadn't expected it to be so deep. "I was just leaving," she said in a soft voice.

Her voice was very soft, and while the Chief had no trouble hearing her, he imagined others did.

"Why use a damaged weapon?"

The Chief took a few seconds to realize he had spoken. Why did he say that? He didn't actually care. He would be gone soon, so the information was irrelevant.

The Chief chalked it up to him being rattled about the day's events. Everything was far from normal.

The woman frowned and looked down at her blade, held in two hands.

"A sword mirrors its owner," she said finally.

The Chief looked down at his own armour, all chipped and dented. Oddly enough, the Chief understood what she meant.

The woman put her blade away in a complex leather sheath and walked towards the door. She stopped beside the Chief, and held out her hand.

The Chief was surprised. He didn't imagine that people on a remote world would have the same traditions as the UNSC. A disturbing thought began to nag at the back of the Chief's mind.

The Chief shoved the thought away and took the hand, trying to be as gentle as possible.

The woman left, leaving the Chief in the empty room.

The Chief looked around. There was certainly a lot of stuff to train with.

Staring hard at the targets on the wall, the Master Chief grabbed a crossbow, and took aim.

He fired.

* * *

**Right. So... I've been thinking, and I decided, contrary to my original plans for the story, to add a relationship. I have been trying to narrow down the possibilities - it has to be someone who is similar to the Chief and someone he can relate to - and managed to narrow it down to about 7 champs. But, if anyone has thoughts, i'm open to suggestions.**

**So review if you think there's anything I can improve on, and... see you next time? Or maybe not. I'd understand why, seeing as how i'm pretty bad at this.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again. Here's another chapter because, apparently, people actually _like _this story. Not that I would know why.**

**Anyways, I just wanted to say that I might put more a bit more emotion into the Master Chief than is seen in the games. The novels have him a tiny bit more emotional regarding certain things. Don't expect it to much, though.**

**Aaaaand I've decided on a 'romance' for the Chief, or w/e you wanna call it. Expect it to be slow and (hopefully) vague. **

**Wort Wort Wort!**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Off the rock, through the bush, nothing but… league

The Master Chief did not sleep at all.

He had stayed awake through the whole night, training, trying to keep his mind off of Cortana. Now he sat in his room, re-assembling his MA5C for the seventh time.

There was a knock at the door.

The Chief hesitated, then walked to the door. Hand on his magnum, he opened it, revealing the smiling face of Reighlen.

"Good morning, sir. High Councillor Kolminye wanted to see you in her quarters," he said quickly.

The Chief nodded and walked back to the table, placing his assault rifle on his back. He wasn't about to go meet a Summoner without his weapons.

"Oh, and also, I'm, uh, supposed to, uh, put a name plaque on your door, but… I don't know what to put on it." The boy sounded a bit nervous.

The Chief didn't really want a plaque on the door announcing his presence to the world. It was a tactically bad move, but he also understood that he had to follow the rules of this league if he wanted to get home.

"MCPO, space, S-117," Chief said. It was what was inscribed on his dog tags.

The boy blinked. "That's an odd name," he said. The Chief glared at him, and though the boy couldn't see his eyes, it was unnerving. "But good! I really like the, uh, numbers. In there," he added quickly, shifting his gaze.

The Chief brushed past the boy, locked his door, then walked away. He made it halfway down the hall before realizing he didn't know where the High Councillor's quarters were.

He looked back at the boy.

"Follow me," the boy said with a smile.

* * *

"This is it," said the boy.

The Chief stood outside a large, mahogany wood door. It was inlaid with silver and gold, with a large white gem in the middle. He was almost afraid to knock for fear of breaking it.

Just as he raised his hand to the door, it opened, revealing a woman with sharp features.

"Ma'am," Chief said. He was a little unsure of how to address her.

She smiled and ushered him inside. She took a seat behind her desk, then gestured to the seat across from it.

The Chief remained standing.

"I can honestly say I am glad you are here," she began, immediately talking business. "The League's been needing a strong new champion for a while, and you fit perfectly. I'm sure that if we wo-"

"I'm not here to help you solve your political struggles," said the Chief. He fell silent after, annoyed at his outburst. He never had trouble before keeping his opinions to himself, and he couldn't quite convince himself it was just because he was rattled.

The High Councillor raised a trimmed eyebrow. "Yes, I am aware," she said. "And we aren't asking you to. We just want you to show off your skills on the rift. That's more than enough"

The Chief said nothing. He found himself greatly disliking the High Councillor.

She sighed and waved her hand, "anyways, I have other news. My Summoners have been trying to locate your home, but we have been unable to. It's as if your world never existed."

The Chief recalled his thought from last night. He had thought about it for a while, and found it could be a possibility. This made it all the more likely. "Maybe you're looking in the wrong place," he said. "I ended up here because the Ark Slipspace portal closed prematurely. Maybe it didn't just drop me out in an uncharted are of space. Maybe it moved me to an entirely different dimension."

The Councillor raised both her eyebrows this time. "That's a bit odd… but certainly plausible. I'll have my Summoners widen their search. Not the first time we've had inter-dimensional guests."

That sounded like good news to the Chief. The sooner they found the UNSC, the sooner he could go back to where he was needed.

The Councillor smiled. "Also, Heimerdinger has sent us a shipment of your weapons, scavenged from the wreckage. It's being sent to your room."

The Chief nodded, grateful that he now had more equipment. He began to leave.

"I expect you to put it to good use on the Summoners Rift today."

The Chief froze. He turned sharply.

The Councillors smile widened. "Today is a practice game. You are going to participate."

* * *

The Chief walked up to the summoning platform. While he really did not want to be in a war game simulation, he did not have much of a choice. Plus, he'd gone through worse simulations before. He brought with him a battle rifle, magnum, and plasma grenades, all taken from his new cache of weapons.

There were already four champions at the top: A gold armoured angel, a large dog man, a cowboy, and a woman in sun-lit armour. They all turned to stare at him. The Chief walked past them and took his spot.

Immediately blue rings appeared around his body, and he heard a voice his head.

_Hello, _the voice said. _I'm your summoner for this match. Names Daniel._

While the Chief did not mind the voice – in fact, he found it almost reassuring – He was unsure of how to respond. If it was anything like Cortana, he would need to speak –

_Not to worry. I can hear your thoughts_

The Chief blinked.

The blue light around his body intensified, and everything around him disappeared, with the exception of the other champions.

A few seconds later, the Chief found himself on a platform in the middle of a base – the Summoners Rift.

"Explain this to me," said the Chief.

_Okay. Well, I'm here to guide you through this match. I'll monitor everything and give you useful information and tips. Your goal is to destroy the enemy nexus, but each path there is guarded by turrets._

"Okay," said the Chief. It made enough sense. It was like capture the flag.

The other Champions began to leave the base for their respective lanes.

_Okay, to your left is the store. You have some starting gold to spend on a rune. You gain gold by killing enemies. Go buy one now._

Chief did as he was told. He browsed over the selection, and chose a rune that was engraved with a purple blade.

_Good. Now, put the rune in the case on your left hip._

Chief looked down and realized he did indeed have a case on his left hip. As soon as he placed the rune inside he felt a little bit stronger.

_The case you have activates the power of the runes. You can only hold six. You can also buy potions to help you recover faster. Now go to the bot lane. Your support is waiting for you there._

"Support?"

_Oh yeah, forgot to mention that. You're the teams AD carry. You generally stay at the back of fights because you're easier to kill than most, and do a bunch of damage. _

The Chief found it amusing that he was assumed to be easy to kill.

_Now, don'e be afraid to use your weapons. W__hile on the rift, you have unlimited ammunition - we just keep summoning the same one over and over. You don't have to worry about conserving ammunition or scavenging for new weapons._

That was the ability that the Chief liked the most. The ability to give his enemies no quarter and not worry about wasting his bullets? Genius.

* * *

The Chief found it fairly easy to get into the rhythm of the game: get headshots on minions, harass opponents, and stay with the support. Not too much trouble. The match went fairly smoothly, up until his first engagement.

Just as he went in to headshot a minion on a cannon, the enemy support threw a hook out to catch him.

_Avoid it_

The Chief dodged right, but the hook hit his own support, snagging on her armour. The enemy flew right up to the two of them and began to attack, swinging his hook around in deadly arcs.

_Focus the enemy ADC_

The Chief grimaced. He knew how to fight.

He fired his BR, feeling the gun rock in his hands. Each burst impacted on the corrupted archer, knocking him back a bit and damaging him.

The enemy support was causing some major damage on his own support, but she was managing to keep him at bay.

_You should help your support out a bit_

The Chief ignored him, the sound of his bullets overpowering his voice.

Movement. The Chief turned his head to the right and saw a metal face mask right beside him. He felt metal blades slash out at him, draining his shields partially.

The Chief ducked under the next swing, wondering why his motion sensor hadn't detected the enemy mid lane earlier. He'd have to check it again.

Another two blows hit the chief, draining his shields. As the enemy went in for another strike, the chief knocked him back with his foot, primed a plasma grenade, and tossed it at him.

The plasma grenade stuck and began to glow bright blue. It ignited the enemies red cloak and exploded. The Chief fired all the remaining bullets in his magazine at the target, hoping that would be enough.

"You could have warned me," the Chief said, annoyed.

_Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to the other lanes. And anyways, the other summoner should have – DUCK_

The Chief ducked and dodged a couple of shuriken's aimed at his head. He spun around, seeing his enemy behind him. He wasn't sure how he had gotten there so fast.

He drew his magnum with his off hand and fired twice, both shots hitting the enemy directly in the forehead. The enemy ran forwards, and the Chief tossed his BR to the ground and drew his combat knife from his left shoulder guard, and held it in a defensive position.

_Your knife isn't going to work_

The enemy slashed around in circle, and his combat knife barely blocked the blow. The Chief kicked the man away and looked at his knife. It was dented and unusable.

_Told you_

The Chief grimaced and threw it to the ground just as his enemy disappeared in a burst of shadow, then re-appeared in front of him. His blade swung towards the Chief.

Vertigo. He felt nauseous. The Chief found himself several feet away, under his own turret.

_Sorry, should have warned you. I had no choice._

_There's always a choice, _thought Chief. Luckily for him was trained to fight even in these circumstances, so he fired his magnum, emptying every bullet at the cloaked figure and hitting him, killing him in a burst of light.

_Your support is going to die soon. We should try and –_

"No," said the Chief. "It's too late. Recuperate and regroup."

The only sound to break the silence was the Chief reloading.

_Alright. Let me recall you back to base._

The Chief could only watch as his support was torn apart by a hail of arrows.

* * *

"I can't believe we lost!" exclaimed the Cowboy. "It was that stupid mummy; kept camping my lane."

"Yeah, well, it would have helped if you told us when your mid lane went missing," said the gold angel.

The Chief's teammates all walked side by side thought the halls, heading towards the cafeteria. The Chief walked several steps behind them. The match had left him hungry, and that was the only reason he was near them.

They kept complaining, giving various reasons as to why they lost, but the Chief knew better. It had been his fault. It had been so long since he had worked as part of a team. He had been the weakest link. He couldn't even co-ordinate with his Summoner.

Not that it mattered. He had played the game, fulfilled his obligations.

He would be gone soon anyways.

They entered the cafeteria, the other four champions getting a table together. The Chief walked past them.

"Hey, big guy," said the sunny woman who had been his support. "Why don't you join us?"

The Chief had no intentions of socializing with these people. He saw no reason in it.

But he wasn't about to tell them that.

"Maintenance," he said, flexing his armoured hand.

They all stared at him, but he walked past, uncaring. It wasn't his duty to play nice with them

The Master Chief grabbed a plate, heaped it with food, and retreated back to his room.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

A man rose out of the water, walking onto the pier. It was dark out, almost pitch black, and the only reason the man was visible was because of the light coming off of his lantern.

He walked steadily forward, knowing no one was here to see him. At the end of the pier waited the scientist.

The scientist didn't even acknowledge then man's presence. He held out his hand.

The man dropped a small, hand-sized case into the scientist's outstretched palm.

"This is everything," said the man. "The rest was too damaged to extract correctly."

"It will suffice," the scientist replied. His voice was cold, cruel. "Your effectiveness has been noted, Marin."

The man nodded, knowing that he had just been dismissed. He turned to leave, anticipating the warm shower he would take. The water had been freezing cold.

Behind him, he could hear the scientist chuckle under his breath.

"Soon," he heard him mutter. "Soon."

* * *

**Okay. So, if there's anything i can improve on, please leave a review. If not, meh. Hope you guys have enjoyed the story so far.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey. So there are a set of reviews that I really, really enjoyed, because it made me realize my thought process is not very clear when it comes to some things. SO, here I'm going to attempt to clarify my thought process, just so I don't seem like someone who doesn't know my lore. I really do.**

**The first thing is that the Master Chief does NOT always get along with superior officers. Colonel Ackerson is someone that Chief (and all Spartans) disliked immensely, despite never meeting the guy. Also, there was a commander in the novel **_**The Flood;**_** I think it was Major Silva. May be wrong on his name, but the Master Chief vocally disagreed with him. While he was professionally while saying it, we can only imagine what went on in his mind. That is what I attempted to replicate here. The Chief also disagreed with the ONI officer in the novel **_**First Strike, **_**and Captain Del Rio in Halo 4.**** The Master Chief is likening the High Councillor to those people. Just because he's obedient, does not mean he likes them.**

**Also, yes, the Chief does care for people under his command, and yes, he is not a lone wolf anymore. However, in the novel **_**the flood,**_** right after the Master Chief crash lands on Halo, he fights some elites and is ambushed by a veteran, almost getting himself killed. He even says that he left himself vulnerable because he was still trying to fight as a team. Even though he just went through the boarding action on the **_**autumn**_** by himself, he was still fighting like a team player. Ever since that point, The Chief has tried to fight as a lone wolf again. Now that he has lost Cortana, he is more reclusive. If it was that hard to break fighting as a team, imagine how hard it is now for him break that lone wolf fighting style. It almost got him killed the last time, this time it made him lose. Even in Halo 4, when he's with UNSC forces, he fights alone. Namely, the whole desert segment. ****Imagine it as him being 'lost'.**

**The Chief believes that the Summoners can send him back through a portal as soon as they know where he lives. He doesn't think there is any danger in staying, and believes that bonds would slow him down. This will be re-iterated later in the story. **

**Aaaaaand the rank of Master Chief Petty Officer is not a very low one. Not high, but not low. He was put in charge by Mendez and Halsey, despite there being better options for command. The other kids did look up to him, but there were better. No Spartan achieved a higher rank than him while he was still in charge/with all together. They were all petty officers of some sort. Fred and Kurt were the first two lieutenants, I believe. The former was made so by Kurt, he promoted him after Kurt made it clear he would not be surviving Onyx. The latter became that rank after being separated from the Spartans. **

**Imagine the Chiefs current stash of weapons being very limited. The Dongers will be going through the Ship, but it is slow going (cuz water) and the armoury is going to be hard to get in to. The majority of Chiefs weapon will be things that were just f****loating?/Lying? Around, so only the common stuff. It's not like the Chief would use most of the weapons he will receive. Aside from the light weaponry, he would save most of it. Also, the MA5 series is his weapon(s?) of choice.**

**Lastly, the Chiefs abilities have NOT been restricted. He's been in one game. Jax got his abilities restricted after a bunch of 'em, and it's not like they knew he was a rape-train right after his judgment.**

**Sorry if this took too long. Needed to be said.**

**Blarg.**

* * *

Chapter 6 – Step Aside, Let the Man Go Through

The Master Chief fiddled around with the miniscule mirrors inside his helmet, trying to align them just right. He didn't need his sensors failing him when it matters most.

They were small little things, almost too small for his gauntleted hand to manoeuver. He had had plenty of training preforming field repairs, however, so it wasn't that much of a challenge. Regardless, they shouldn't need repairing in the first place. He'd inspected them again, but found nothing visibly wrong with them. They should have worked just fine. He couldn't even put it down to age, because he had not had the Mark 6 for all that long. Unless he had been floating in space for far longer than its operational capacity.

And that was a disturbing thought for more than one reason.

He snapped the last one back into place. There. Good as new.

He placed the helmet back on his head, hearing a _clunk _and feeling the bottom half lock on his jaw. He tilted his head around, making sure it was locked on properly. He then began to boot up the sensor software, going through all the start-up checks and making sure it was back in working order.

A yellow blip appeared.

There was a knock at the door.

"Chief? It's me, Reighlen. I've got those maps you asked for."

The Chief walked to the door. He briefly considered drawing his magnum, but decided to keep it on his hip instead. No point I scaring the kid. Besides, he would have heard anyone else there.

Outside the door stood the boy, holding several large scrolls. "These are all the maps I could find," he said. "Demacia, the Institute, Piltover, Zaun, Noxus. They're all up to date, except for the Noxus one."

The Chief nodded, grabbed them and placed the maps on his desk. He looked back and found the boy still standing there.

"Could I help you with anything else?" The kid asked timidly.

The Chief shook his head and began to open up the scrolls.

"You sure? I could do some errands for you, or something."

Chief shook his head again, moving to close the door.

"You know, I'm pretty good with hextech. I could help you fix your armour, it's pretty beat up."

There was no way the Chief was going to let someone he didn't trust touch his armour. He would make do with it in its current state until he was back with the UNSC.

"No," Chief said gruffly, and closed the door.

He then began the labour some process of inputting the maps into his database on Valoran.

While the Chief could not be sure if they were truly up-to-date, they scroll material appeared to be fairly new, so he assumed they were.

The task took several hours to finish, and by the end of it, the Chief was thoroughly sick of staring at the same white walls. Even he could only take so much of the same thing.

_It can't hurt to talk a walk,_ he thought.

But where should he go? Ideally, he would go and train, but he didn't want to do so while the room was occupied. And at this time of the day, it would be.

The Chief thought for a moment about going outside and seeing a bit of the city.

While he really didn't want to be in a public environment, it would help if he knew a bit of the surrounding area.

He sighed, and wished for the twelfth time that day that Cortana were here. He just couldn't seem to get his mind off of her. It would have been a lot better - and easier - if they were together as a team. She had been more than just equipment to him.

The Chief looked outside, and finally decided he would go for a walk outside. But off the main roads. It would be a good test to see the up-to-date-ness of the maps.

Rechecked his magnum, making sure it was secured. He decided to leave his rifles behind, trusting in his abilities and his magnum to deal with anything potentially dangerous.

He made his way out of his room and walked through the institute, using the least traversed pathways. His footsteps reverberated around the empty halls.

The Chief wondered at the material they used to line the floor. While it looked like polished white marble, it was holding his weight perfectly, not even disfiguring slightly. Even though he knew the metal flooring of the UNSC was just as strong, it wasn't nearly as nice looking. Not that the UNSC needed pretty flooring; its militaristic simplicity was more than fine for him. It was just interesting.

Eventually, the pathways led him to the massive space that was the main entrance hall. White pillars held the high, vaulted roof up, each one lined with spirals of gold.

There were quite a few people about: Champions, aids, Summoners. A few glanced his way, wide eyed, but most were too engrossed with their activities to notice him.

That was more than fine with the Chief.

He walked through the massive arched entryway and walked down the stairs that led to the courtyard. Beyond that was the main road.

The day was bright, the sky was clear, and the weather was good. All of these factors meant that plenty of people were outdoors, much to the dismay of the Chief.

He walked along the street, being carried along by the crowd. Many of the people turned to stare at him, obviously wondering who he was. He had only been in one match, after all. The normal folk wouldn't have seen him yet, or known he was a League Champion.

And the armour tends to be a bit intimidating.

The Chief noted that the people were all showing up on his motion sensor. That was good; it meant it was operational. Still, he would do a more thorough cleaning later on, just to be safe.

He turned down a side street that was not on his mini-map and began to look in store windows. Most of the stuff was jewelry and clothing, nothing of value, and certainly nothing that interested him. It wasn't all that important that the map hadn't shown this area.

A glint in the window.

The Chief turned around, seeing nothing.

He looked back. He was sure he had seen –

A flash.

The Chief rolled right, and the window he had been staring at not a moment ago exploded in a cloud of glass.

The Chief looked up at the roof of the opposing house, and saw someone stand up. The person dropped a long rifle and began to run.

The Chief ran after him, running on the street, keeping pace with the man. He knew that he could easily kill that man with a well-placed shot from his M6H, but he thought the Summoners would be much more interested in questioning the man.

The man turned and fired small balls of fire at the Chief, but each missed their mark, exploding against the stone. The Spartan, somewhat surprised at the use of magic, sped up as a response.

The man jumped across the main road, landing on a roof on the other side.

The Chief ran to catch him, but the crowd stopped him. Not wanting to make his way through the civilians, he quickly doubled back and scaled one of the smaller buildings. Once on the roof, it was an easy matter for the Chief to catch up to the man. The man glanced back and realized there was no way to outrun the Chief like this. He fired a couple of blasts to distract him, then he jumped down back to street level and ran head first into the crowd, forcing them apart.

The Chief decided to take a shortcut and jumped straight into the crowd, right ahead of the would-be assassin. He landed with a thud and a cloud of dust, perfectly aimed to avoid the traffic.

The Chief drew his magnum. The man quickly bolted, ducking behind more civilians, who were now starting to realize that something was going on.

The Chief didn't want to shoot in this crowd, and it would be hard to run through them. Back in the UNSC, people would have just moved out of the way if he told them to.

He was a Champion of the Institute, though. That could – _should_ - count for something.

"Everybody down!" he shouted. "I'm a League Champion!" he added, unsure if they would listen to him or not.

Miraculously, they did. As they descended in a wave, the Chief could see the man running, almost at the end of the street.

The Chief decided not to shoot the man and began to sprint, catching up to him in less than four seconds, despite the kneeling crowd. He knew he could have done better, but the acceleration would have proved difficult with the streets so clogged.

"There's nowhere to go," said the Chief.

The man looked thoroughly panicked. His eyes darted quickly to the side.

The second assassin smashed into the Chief.

The Chief was stunned. His motion sensor had failed him again. Medez had always told him not to rely on technology, and as a result, he had been ambushed.

The Chief shrugged off the blow, dropped his weapon and grabbed the second man's arm, twisting until he heard bones crack. He let go of him and turned back to the first man.

The first man drew a wickedly curved knife, etched with glowing runes, and slashed at the Chief.

The blade sparked against the Chiefs shields, draining them down to half. The Chief danced back, out of the man's reach. The man lunged, and the Chief sidestepped, grabbed the man's arm, and bent back, snapping it.

He heard a click behind him.

He turned and saw the second man holding a green sphere in his good hand. There was some sort of… pin on the floor.

It was a grenade.

The man dropped it and ran. The magic inside began to react violently, going from a dull green colour to a bright, venomous purple. Waves of energy began to pulse form it.

The Chief snapped up his fallen magnum and fired it, hitting the man in the leg.

People around the man jerked back in surprise at the loud noise and the blood in the street, but none of them ran from the grenade. They probably didn't know what it was.

The Chief eyed the grenade warily. Was there enough time for people to run clear, or would the resulting stampede cause more deaths? Was there enough time for him to throw it?

Better question yet, why did it look so similar to a UNSC fragmentation grenade?

Sparks began to fly off of it.

The Chief played it safe -well, safe for everyone else - and dived onto the grenade. He over pressurized the gel in his armour, hoping that his shields held.

The grenade went off. The Chief heard a muffled _wumph_ beneath him and his shields drained. He could feel the front of his armour become unbearably hot. Smoke roiled out from underneath him, but he knew this was just the after effects from the grenade.

He was alive. His armour had taken the brunt of the impact.

The Master Chief stood up. The crowds of people around him looked at him with awe clear to see on their faces. The two failed assassins were still were he had left them.

_What a great first day out, _he thought.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

"Sir, I regret to inform you that your assassins failed in their duty," said Marin.

He was in the Scientists office, a room as cold and barren as its owner. Malice seemed to permeate every surface of the room, as if it had soaked it in from its owner.

The scientist didn't even look up from his notes. "Quite alright," he said. "I had no expectation of them succeeding. I just wanted to see if this 'Master Chief' was all he's cracked up to be."

Marin nodded, pretending to understand.

The scientist looked up. "Take these down to factory," he said, holding out several leafs of paper. "The new data I have gleaned will help us finalize the plans there."

Marin grabbed the papers and left the room.

The scientist looked back down at this desk and began to carefully move around a small black case no larger than his thumb.

He smiled.

* * *

**Right, so... stuff. The Chapter was shorter than I would have liked, but I ran outta ideas for this one. So, if anyone has anything to say, leave a review. If not, enjoy the story, and keep on waiting for that Halo 2 redo. Or play Gnar. **


	7. Chapter 7

**'Ello.**

**so... yeah, here's another chapter. I was actually ridiculously lazy writing this one, briefly considered dropping the whole story out of sheer laziness. **

**W/E. We finally reach a chapter in which the Chief interacts.**

**Enjoy?**

* * *

Chapter 7 - Well Enough Alone

"You know, I generally don't like my city being blown up," said High Councillor Kolminye.

The Master Chief was standing in the Councillor's office, saying nothing. He honestly didn't recall the city taking all that much damage during the chase.

The office itself was, like before, immaculate. Everything was neat and tidy, the fancy walls spotless. The Chief could almost understand why she wanted to de-brief him in here rather than back outside where she had found him. It had a way of putting the 'damage' he had caused into perspective.

Not that he was admitting anything had been damaged needlessly. A battle was a battle, and things tended to get broken in them.

"I've gotten complaints from shop owners, demands to repair windows, roofs, and I also have to fix up the nice crater you left in the middle of Main Street," she continued.

Chief frowned inside his helmet. What was he to do, let the grenade explode? Naturally, he did not say any of that. He kept completely still in his normal ramrod posture, allowing the High Councillor to assume what she wanted to assume.

"All in all, though, I'm happy with the results."

The Chief tilted his head in question. Hadn't she just been reprimanding him?

"You've proven that you're a force to be reckoned with. No one's going to try anything like that again," she finished.

The Chief didn't respond. He had already told her that he wasn't here to solve her political troubles, and that seems exactly what she was implying. Then again, if it means he got on her good side, maybe he would get home faster.

"On to other news," she continued, "I've had my Summoners search for any trace of your home dimension, but as of yet we have been unable to. It's as if your 'UNSC' never existed."

The Chief bristled at the comment. He wasn't entirely sure if he believed what she said. She could just be trying to keep him here, pretending she couldn't find his home. He would have to always work with her for the promise of returning to a home she would 'never' be able to find.

He didn't say any of this, of course. He just nodded, seemingly content.

She smiled at him, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I also wanted to inform you that your 'assassins' have been _dealt_ with."

The Spartan tilted his head and nodded. He understood her meaning perfectly, and while he did not quite understand why she would kill two people loaded with possible information, he did not question it.

The High Councillor looked at him hard, then dismissed him with the wave of her hand.

The Chief left the room feeling like he had just been tested. The question was if he had passed it, or failed it.

Not that he cared one way or the other.

* * *

The next few days passed in relative boredom. Chief stayed in his room the whole time, attempting to repair his armour and generally isolating himself from the rest of the Institute, sending Reighlen away every time he came by.

Unfortunately, it proved far harder than he had expected to repair his armour. Most of the things that needed repairing were too damaged for him to fix with what he had on hand, and he would need the proper equipment and tools to even attempt to do so. While he could fix a tiny thing here or there, he would have to make do with it in its current state.

He figured that the High Councillor would send him home sooner – or attempt to, at least – if she saw how miserable and isolated he was. But even so, after two days the Chief couldn't stand to be in his room any longer. Staring at the same walls without anything to do was not something he was trained for. He wasn't capable of staying still and doing nothing.

Plus, it brought up memories of Cortana.

To take his mind of things, and to try and alleviate the boredom, he decided to walk around the halls of the institute, since he wasn't eager to go outside again and the training room would be full at this time.

He exited his room, checking the hallways for any signs that indicated the presence of assassins. This time, he made sure to bring his battle rifle in addition to his magnum and grenades. It would do a far better job than his magnum at putting hostiles down.

As he walked, he took note of every area that could be used to his tactical advantage. It would help to know every room in detail, in case he was attacked inside or was required to help defend the institute.

He hoped it didn't come to that. If something like that were to happen, the High Councillor would be certain to prolong his stay here.

He stopped by one of the silver lined windows that were spaced along the hallway and looked out at the expanse of the League.

It reminded the Chief of Cairo Station, or any of the MAC stations that were littered around UNSC space, albeit one on the ground. It had the same sort of lines and curves, a deadly sort of elegance.

Someone cleared their throat behind the Chief.

He turned around, hand on his pistol, finding it extremely odd that he had heard no one approach.

The person behind him was his teammate from his last game, the winged angel figure with the golden armour. She stood a few meters away, her large, white wings folded behind her, her helmet in one hand. She appeared to be calm, but the Chief got the feeling that she was uncomfortable.

It made sense, seeing as he was feeling the same way.

"I don't believe we've ever introduced ourselves," she said and held out her hand. "I'm Kayle."

Chief didn't take the hand, wary of a trap. Instead, he kept his hand firmly on his weapon. "Master Chief," he replied, tensing ever so slightly.

Kayle noticed the tensing and brought her hand back. "I don't want to hurt you; I just wanted to talk."

"No," said Chief, and turned back to the window, hoping she would take the hint and leave.

She didn't. She walked up beside him and stared out. "You are a lonely soul," she said.

Chief sighed internally. Couldn't people see he didn't want to socialize?

"When I came to the League, I did so with the purpose to help my race, to bring justice," she said, still looking out the window. "I made a deal of servitude with the former high councillor, and even though I am no longer bound to that pledge, I remained. There are things I still need to do, justice that needs to be dispensed. This world requires it just as much as mine."

The Chief didn't understand what she was trying to say, or why she was even saying it in the first place. He did not care if she had abandoned her duty or not. It wasn't his business. All he knew was that he would never do such a thing.

She looked at the Chief. "I was like you, concerned with my duty to my people."

_How does she know that, _he thought, then that thought turned to anger. _I'm nothing like her_

"At first I had been anxious to be away from his place, to be back in the fight," she continued, "but eventually I came to realize that they didn't need me there all the time. I didn't need to babysit them. I had done what was required of me, and I needed to trust them to do what I required of them."

The Chief looked at her. While he wasn't the best at talking, and certainly not with females, he could tell were this was going and didn't like it.

"I don't know who you really are or where you came from, but I can guess enough. This place isn't as bad as you might think. I understand the burden of duty; but it's not yours to shoulder forever."

The air around the pair was pregnant with silence. Kayle shuffled her feet, the only sound in the otherwise quiet hallway.

The Chief finally spoke. "I have a duty to protect humanity. I need to go back."

"I understand that," she said, nodding, "but this place requires your help, too. You can trust the people here – they mean you no ill will."

The Chief rounded on her and gritted his teeth, his choler rising for some unknown reason. "I'm not a slave to this place"

She turned towards him and tilted her head, marvelling at the stubborn headedness of this man. Although it was quite possible he was a robot, as rumored. "This is a place where the best of the best unite to keep the peace. Even mortal enemies can become friends here. No one's a slave."

The Spartan took a step away from Kayle. "I don't need anyone," he said, his anger dissipating. He was a bit confused at himself; he was usually able to keep his emotions in check.

Maybe the words hit too close for comfort.

Kayle raised a knowing eyebrow. "You don't need to be afraid of loss," she said. "It is natural part of life in every universe."

The Chief wondered if the angel was also telepathic. She was reading him easily, despite the fact that she couldn't see his face or understand anything from his immobile body. It was disturbing.

"It was my fault," he whispered in a voice so tiny it surprised even him. He wasn't sure if she had heard him speak, but he sincerely hoped she did not.

She opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something else, but the Chief stopped her. He didn't want to hear any more.

"Leave," he ordered, using the voice he had used on his Spartans so many times before. He did not know at which point in the conversation he had taken his hand off his magnum, but he replaced his hand there, balling the other one into a fist.

Kayle noticed his rising aggression and backed off, placing her helmet back upon her head.

"All I'm saying is that you should make the effort to be a part of the League," she said, backing down the hallway, palms raised towards him in a placating gesture. "You may be here longer than you think."

The Master Chief watched her retreat, then turned away and returned to his room.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

"Test subjects 4 – 9 all escaped and had to be put down," reported Marin, anxiously waiting for his employer to dismiss him.

The room was much like before. Its silver-grey walls were still relatively unadorned, giving the area a rather dark feeling. The only change, however, would be the addition of blueprints along the side walls. Each one indicated something oddly foreign, things that he was sure had never existed on Runeterra before.

The Scientist did not look up from the machine he was working on. "Is it not your job to ensure that this does not happen?"

Marin swallowed nervously. While he was not one to be intimidated by his employers, this one was and exception. This man had ambition and power, and Marin knew firsthand what he was capable of. "With all due respect, sir, I followed the parameters set down by your chief scientist. Everything had been calculated from the calculations you gave him."

The Scientist raised a single eyebrow. "Are you saying my calculations were off?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Yes, Sir," Marin said. He would not lie; it was beneath him.

The Scientist laughed. "That means everything is progressing better than I expected."

Marin blinked. "If that is all, Sir, I –"

"Do you know what this is," the scientist asked, finally making eye contact. His hand was waving towards the machine he was working on.

"No," Marin said, unsure of why it was relevant, and even more unsure of why his employer suddenly felt like sharing.

The Scientist smiled. "This is the culmination of all our sciences," he said. "All our hextech, our techmaturgy, our necromancy, and a little extraterrestrial help. This is the game changer."

"I'm not sure I understand, Sir"

"This 'project' of mine has been years in the making, but we have never been close. And yet, in the span of several days, because of a single event, we are almost ready." The Scientist patted the machine fondly.

Marin clicked his heels together, hoping his employer would get the message.

The Scientist laughed and waved Marin away.

He left feeling more confused than before.

* * *

**RIGHT. So. Let me know how this chapter went, because I wound this ridiculously hard to write for some reason. I'm not really sure if I got the interactions i wanted down right, so let me know and I will endevour to change it. **

**c ya.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi. So... eh, here's another chapter. A chapter in which we get some real combat. yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.**

**Have fun.**

* * *

Chapter 8 - Flawless Cowboy

The Master Chief sat in the same position he had been in for the last day: at his desk, prodding Cortana's chip with his finger. At first he had tried to repair his helmet (again), but could not find what was wrong with the thing (again). He concluded that the parts underwent enough strain to break, and he would need to completely replace everything, which was sad seeing as how he'd only had the Mark VI for less than a week of active service.

So he sat down and just remembered: past battles, training, his Spartans, Cortana. He tried to think of where he went wrong, but he couldn't find any one thing.

When it came down to it, he just hadn't been good enough.

A knock at the door interrupted Chief's thoughts. _Probably the boy again, _he thought.

"Sir?"

_Definitely the boy. _

"Go away," Chief said, knowing from previous experience that if he stayed silent the boy would continue to knock. He had been raised on the idea of self-reliance, and having an assistant went completely against that.

"Sir, you have a league game in ten minutes."

The Chief raised his head and frowned. He didn't have a league game scheduled. "Why was I not informed earlier?" he asked. He hoped this wasn't some plan to get him out of his room.

"It was a last minute thing," the boy responded. "It's a tournament game, and one of the Champions came down unexpectedly with the Shiver Fever. Three other Champions recommended you for the spot."

_That makes some sense, _The Chief thought. He got up and put his helmet back on before another thought occurred to him.

The Boy continued talking, though. "You see, normally Summoners choose champs, but since this is a tourny game, they let the others decide for synergy pur-"

"Who recommended me," he called out, genuinely curious.

"Um... I think it was Caitlyn, Vi, and Riven," he responded in a less-than-convincing tone.

Caitlyn and Vi the Chief somewhat understood. They had seen him in action first hand, temporary though it had been. Riven, though… he had no idea who that was.

The Chief looked at his less than impressive armoury, debating on what to bring. After a few seconds of contemplation, he grabbed his usual: his MA5C, his M6H, and some plasma grenades. It was better off he kept the weapons he was most comfortable with. He jerked the door open, surprising the boy who stood just outside it.

"Okay," Chief said.

* * *

Chief walked to the summoning platform, noting the figures already there. As he trekked by them to get to his spot, he gave them each a careful nod.

Caitlyn was to his left, Vi was across from him, the white haired woman from the training room and a blonde woman in a white… bikini? were to his right.

"Glad you joined us," Caitlyn said, tipping her hat at the Chief.

The white-haired woman stared at him intently. The Chief found it plausible that this was Riven, seeing as how she was the only one other than the Piltover duo that he recognized, though he was unsure as to why she had recommended him.

"Hey Tin Man," Vi called out, smirking. "Wanna make a bet? See who gets the most kills?"

Caitlyn turned to reprimand VI, expecting the Spartan not to answer. Vi's smirk was already fading fast as the Sheriff opened her mouth to speak.

"You're on," said the Master Chief, resulting in incredulous looks from the rest of the team.

The Chief figured that he should make the attempt to be friendly, seeing as how three total strangers had recommended him for a tournament game. If they had faith in him, he could try and put some faith in them.

Even if he had no expectations of staying.

* * *

**ENEMY DOUBLE KILL**

The announcers accented voice reverberated around the Rift.

Chief peered out from behind the mid lane inner turret, looking at the fallen bodies of Caitlyn and Janna. Riven and Vi came stumbled through the gap in the trees to his right and took places beside him.

"Ah, shit," Vi exclaimed. Their team was behind as it was, and with two of their team members down the enemy team now had the perfect chance to push and end.

_We should fall back, _Chief's Summoner said.

The Chief analyzed the enemy team for a moment, thinking hard.

"No," he said. Vi and Riven glanced over at him. He had forgotten for a second that they could not hear his Summoner.

"We can't fall back now, or we lose. We need to capitalize on their lack of a minion wave right now."

"Okay…," Riven said slowly. "But it' a 3v5. I don't see how we're going to have a chance."

The Chief gazed over at the enemy team, years of training and warfare allowing him to formulate a plan instantly.

"Vi will engage on the light mage, and that will cause some disruption," he began, then pointed at the red-caped enemy top laner. "He holds his axe with his right hand. Riven, if you run right past his left hand side, he'll have trouble turning fast enough to hit you, unless he's willing to swing his axe around and hit his teammate. After that, engage the enemy samurai and keep him between you and the axe man. That will put you on the same side as Vi. I'll take the ADC and the Support."

Vi blinked a couple of times, then burst out laughing. "That is the ballsiest plan I've heard in a while," she said between tears, "and it'll probably get us killed, but it sounds like a hell of a lot of fun."

Riven nodded her consent, tracing the path she would take with her eyes.

"Trust me," said the Chief. "I've survived worse odds."

_I hope you know what you're doing, _His Summoner pulsed to him.

_I do, _The Chief thought back. It would not do for his teammates to hear dissent at this moment. _Just let me handle this._

"Be ready to use heal on my mark," he said to his Summoner out loud. He was using his command voice again. He nodded to Vi and Riven. "Now"

Vi shouted and charged up her gauntlet, smashing aside the enemy team as she raced for the light mage.

Riven ran right behind her, heading right past the axe man, ready to engage the Samurai.

As Riven past him, Chief noticed the axe man tense his muscles, preparing to leap forward onto the exile. Chief quickly primed a plasma grenade and threw it as far as it could. It latched onto his targets armour and began to burn a blinding white.

The Chief ran towards the outlaw, hearing the explosion set off behind him.

Chief fired his assault rifle on full auto, getting closer to the carry, but suddenly he stopped dead.

_You've been stunned_

The Chief grimaced and looked to his left, seeing the enemy Gem Knight much closer than he anticipated. He forced his legs to move, and they did, albeit sluggishly. He grabbed his opponents shield, swinging himself around, landing closer to the adc. The Knight swung his hammer around in an arc, but the Chief caught it one handed and emptied the rest of his clip into the support chest.

He looked at the enemy adc, and saw him preparing to fire a large bullet at his team.

The Chief quickly reloaded and propelled himself towards him, not caring if the support was dead or not. He knew what he had to do.

He had done it twice before, and he would do it a third time. He had always been lucky.

Just as the bullet fired, the Chief backhanded it and sent it flying off course. The resulting explosion drained his shields, launched him away, and caused his indicator bar to start flashing red. It also blew away the axe-wielding man and the light mage. The Chief landed a little ways away, in a pile of stone, and noticed a bit belatedly that the announcer had not announced his kills. She was probably confused as to what had just happened.

The Chief coughed, his throat parched. He knew that if this had been real life, he would be coughing out blood.

He struggled out of the rubble of his first tier turret and made his way to where Riven was fighting the Samurai.

The Spartan tackled into his side, causing the Ronin's swipe to go wild. The Samurai spun around, and the Chief fired his assault rifle into the gap between the two of them.

The Samurai summoned a wall of wind which blocked every round that had been aimed at him from the Chiefs direction.

But those weren't the only projectiles aimed at him.

A wave of destructive green energy passed right through him, slicing the Samurai clean in half.

This time, the announcer announced the kill.

The Chief noticed that his shields were recharging slower than usual, and his health indicator was still red. The strain they had been under might have wasted the shield's battery. "Mark," said Chief, and a green glow appeared, instantly recharging his shields and helping his teammates partially recover from their wounds.

Across from them, the enemy teams remaining forces got into position.

Although the tables had indeed turned on the enemy team, they were still in the better position, with much of Chief's team in a weakened state. Any protracted engagement would see his side beaten.

The Chief pointed to Vi and Riven, then pointed to the support, hoping they understood. Then Chief charged the outlaw.

Chief slide under a wave of buckshot, jumped up and smashed his armoured fist into the man's jaw.

The man retaliated by swinging his shotgun upwards, but the Chief was ready for the blow and dodged around it, aiming his rifle at the man's head.

The man, finally realizing he would not best the Spartan in close combat, dashed backwards and sent a smoke grenade flying towards him.

It impacted the Chief directly on the chest, and everything went black. His motion sensor detected nothing on the outside, but the Chief had already expected it to fail. He tried to claw at the air around his face, thin it out, but it wouldn't work. He realized it was like the darkness in the reflection chamber.

He rolled out of it and crouched, riddle raised, searching for his target.

There. The shot gunner was firing shots at Riven, who was deflecting them with some sort of runic shield.

Vi was on the ground, possibly stunned by the support, who was making his way towards his carry, hammer glowing green.

The Chief darted in between the two enemies and his two teammates, hoping to give them some respite.

There was a loud noise and a blast of light. Chief turned his head to see the supports' gems glow vividly, and aura of blue, purple and pink light emanating around him. Chief had a bad feeling about it.

He looked to his teammates. They would need a few more seconds to recover.

The Shotgunner reloaded, grinning around his cigar.

Seconds they didn't have.

He glanced at the bush to his left: it was within diving range.

Could he hold them off at his base turret?

Chief knew what his former trainers would have said in this situation: _You're a leader, Chief, and you need to make the hard choices. You can't micromanage your soldiers, even though you __might want to. You need to keep focused on the bigger picture. People will die, and you need to ensure that you achieve your goal._

The Chief wondered what his goal was. He knew what the League wanted him to do, and what his Summoner wanted, but…

But what did he want?

He glanced once more to the bush, then turned back to his enemies. He pulled his assault rifle into his body and aimed it with his right hand at the gem knight. He drew magnum with his off hand and aimed it at the outlaw.

He opened fire at the same time his enemies attacked.

* * *

"You should have seen it! He went all cowboy on 'em, shooting and shit," exclaimed Vi. She was in the center of the group, enigmatically waving her hands as she spoke.

"Yes, Vi, we know," Caitlyn said, rolling her eyes. Janna giggled.

For the first time, Chief walked side by side with the rest of his team. They were headed to the mess hall – _Cafeteria, _Chief corrected himself.

"And then finally the announcer got her shit together and called out the quadra kill. It was freakin' amazing!"

The Chief had already made up his mind to sit with the rest of the team. Though he really did not want to, it couldn't hurt to be around people for once.

"Although I still can't believe he beat me," Vi said. "I was sure I would win that bet."

Caitlyn sighed. "Honestly, Vi, would you be quiet for a single moment?"

Vi snorted, and the rest of the team laughed.

They grabbed a table near the middle of the room, at the Chiefs insistence. It was the most tactical spot in the room, and it allowed Chief to see everyone's movements. In the case of an attack, he would have plenty of cover around him.

The chair he sat on squeaked slightly in protest of his weight, but held. Everything was enchanted, it seemed. Or maybe just built to hold things heavier than him, but he thought that was less than likely.

Everyone else began to sit down, too, jostling each other for the 'best' seats.

"Mind if I take a seat here, too?" a smooth voice asked. "I've only just gotten away from that useless husband of mine."

The Chief glanced at the speaker. It was a very pale woman with white hair, and she was pointing to an empty seat near the Chief, her other hand holding a bowl of food.

"Sure thing, Ashe," said Janna. "Master Chief, this is Ashe, queen of the Freljord. Ashe, this is the Master Chief."

Ashe took the seat and nodded politely to the Chief. "So you're the new Champion."

"Anb a damn goo' un at dat, too," mumbled Vi, a leather strap in between her teeth. She was in the process of taking off her gauntlets, although Chief wasn't too sure why she was attempting to do so with her mouth.

The Chief decided it was about time to grab some food, sohe got up, grabbed a plate form the side table, and piled his plate full of everything that looked appetizing (everything). He grabbed some sort of dark tea to drink, and went to sit back down.

"You're going to eat all that?" Janna asked. Her face turned slightly green as she stared at the food.

Chief looked down at his own plate. While Spartans could go for long periods of time without sustenance, they did require a lot of food to replenish all the energy their enhanced bodies used up. But he didn't say this, of course. That was classified.

Janna didn't wait for an answer, though. Soon everyone was engrossed in conversation – preparations in case of war in the Freljord, the hunt for someone or something called C, The likeliest team to win the championships, among other things.

The Chief reached his hands to the section of his helmet that locked to his jaw and manually released it. The helmet came free with a small hiss and he placed it on the table within easy reach. He began to dig in to his food.

Everyone stared.

"Tim Man human confirmed?" Vi said, eyes wide, a half smirk on her lips.

The Chief swallowed the bite in his mouth and met her gaze evenly.

"Why are you so pale?" asked Riven, never one for subtlety. "Do you live in that armour?"

Janna giggled at the Frost Archer, who looked down self-consciously with a frown.

"Yes," the Chief replied monotonely. He didn't understand why everyone was acting oddly.

Riven leaned back with wide eyes.

"Chief… where do you come from?" asked Ashe, who was stabbing some salad with a fork. "The only people I know that are that pale come from Freljord, but I'm sure I've never heard of anyone like you from there."

Vi and Caitlyn exchanged a knowing glance.

"UNSC space," he replied. Most people might have responded with their home planet, but the Chief had no recollection of his. And even if he did, it was probably glassed by now. It's not like he needed a home, anyways. The UNSC gave him everything he needed.

Ashe frowned before pointing upwards, and the Chief nodded. Everyone, with the exception of Caitlyn and Vi, leaned backwards and inhaled deeply. The Chief found it odd that people were amazed that he had come from space. They had mutants and magic and werewolves and inter—dimensional beings, and they were not embroiled in a war with any of them. That was far more incredible than space.

"If you come from up_ there,_" Riven began timidly, "then how did you get down _here?" _

The Chief twirled his fork around, getting impatient. This was why he didn't eat with others. "After the battle of the Ark, I tried to escape through a slipspace portal in the _Forward Unto Dawn, _but the portal closed prematurely because of the detonation of the new Halo ring and the ship was cut in half. One half, I assume, went to earth, and the other ended up here."

Everybody around the table looked confused. VI just put her hands on her head and muttered, "Too many big words."

Janna glanced around the table, then said, "Chief, I think I speak for everyone here when I say you should start at the beginning."

The Master Chief sighed inwardly and put his fork down. He wasn't going to be eating anytime soon.

* * *

**AAAAAAAND CUT. That's probably the longest chapter I've uploaded so far. SO, if there's anything I can improve on, let me know. I'm still not so sure how I feel about the way I write combat scenes. On another note, I almost have a skillset done for the Chief. Should be cool. **

**Or Not.**

**Meh.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sup. So here's another chapter because, for some reason, more people read this story ever week. Am I missing something? So confused.**

**Anyways, this chapter is not that chapter in other halo crossovers where the Master Chief 'spills the beans,' if you know what I mean. That comes in later. He doesn't trust anyone enough for that. **

**Yet.**

**For Demacia!**

* * *

Chapter 9 - Once More, With Feeling.

The Master Chief began from the beginning. He told them about first contact, the fall of Reach, the revelation of Halo, the battle for Earth, Delta Halo, the Ark. He left out every classified detail and anything that could cause a potential breach in security. He didn't take any chances, despite being an entire dimension away. He was particularly sure to emphasize that Spartans were s_elected _from existing troopers, just like ONI told normal marines.

By the end of the story, the Chief's throat was aching and dry from all the talking. It was the most he'd done in a long, long time. Everyone just stared at him with equal parts of shock and awe.

"And I thought the power struggle in the Freljord was bad," Ashe said, slowly shaking her head. "At least I'm not fighting a war to prevent my extinction."

Everyone at the table hummed their agreement. The Chief took the brief respite to grab his unidentifiable beverage and drain in it one gulp. While many would have grimaced at its bitter taste, he kept his expression neutral the whole time.

"Well, Tin Man, I can say you are a bigger badass then you were twenty minutes ago," said Vi. She had been the most excited out of everyone, asking questions about the capabilities of MAC's, the inner workings of slipspace, how AI's worked, and series of other questions related to spacecraft. The Chief could tell she was an inventor at heart. The majority of the questions he had left unanswered, though. It would be somewhat compromising if piltover suddenly had a magnetic accelerator cannon.

There was silence at the table. The Chief used it to quickly eat his food, hoping he could retreat as soon as he was done.

"So Cortana… your… AI, she was the one on the chip?" asked Caitlyn.

The Chief froze mid bite, his appetite suddenly gone. He had forgotten that Caitlyn and VI had seen her data crystal before. He nodded slowly, putting his fork back down. He pulled out his dogtags and waved them in front of everyone, the chip glinting in the light of the room. Caitlyn sat back, mouthing an "oh."

The Chief put his dogtags away and looked down at his hands. Everyone was silent, which was understandable. It was hard to swallow that in another dimension, the human race fought a twenty-five year war to prevent the annihilation of their species. After a few moments he grabbed his helmet and locked it back into place. He nodded to everyone around the table, and then got up to leave.

He made it half way down the corridor before he heard footsteps rapidly approaching.

He turned around and saw Riven. She stopped a little ways away from him. "You shouldn't just leave," she said. "Being alone makes it worse."

The Chief frowned and shook his head. "I'm fine," he said, but didn't turn away.

"I know it's hard," she continued, trying to make eye contact, "but it gets easier with time. I was suspicious of everybody for the longest time. I know what you're going through."

The Chief looked at her, incredulously. This was not what he had been expecting, at all. "I don't need anyone," he said hollowly. To his ears, it seemed like he was convincing himself more than her.

Clearly she thought so, too. "Everybody does. I thought was better off alone for the longest time, but the past would always race up to me. As soon as I got here, things were better. Here, I can make a difference." She paused. "So can you."

"…Did the Sheriff put you up to this?"

A nervous chuckle. "Vi, actually. I owed her for something."

The Chief bit back the retort he was about to say. He knew what she said was true, in a way, even if he didn't like it, and even if she didn't really mean it.

The Spartan found it slightly amusing that Vi would be the one to - indirectly - give him a moral lesson.

There was an awkward silence.

A thought occurred to him. "Why did you recommend me for the spot on the team?"

Riven frowned and blinked, confused at the change in topic. "Well," she began, "do you remember that night in the training room? I didn't actually leave. Your armour reminded me of stuff in Noxus, so I assumed you were there to kill me. You didn't right away, though, so I went to the second floor to see what you would do, and I saw you train. I knew that you were a force to be reckoned with."

_So much for my Spartan senses and my motion sensor, _thought Chief. _I couldn't even tell that there was a second floor and someone was watching me. _He didn't say that, though. Another thought had already occurred to him. "Why would you recommend me if you thought I was there to kill you?"

"I took a chance," she replied, shrugging. "And you were worth the risk, I think. I like winning."

The Chief half turned away, the turned back to her. "I need a close combat weapon," he said. "My combat knife is not in an optimal state for close combat. Do you… think you could help?" The Chief almost had to force the words out. While what he said was true, the last thing he wanted was to be around these Champions – or anyone, for that matter – longer than he had to be. But he also knew he needed allies, and Riven was willing to help him. Despite not knowing anything about her, he felt he could, at least, understand her. As much as a genetically modified super soldier can understand an exiled Noxian League celebrity, anyways. Or whatever the others had said she was. He had tuned himself out when Janna tried to relate Riven to the Arbiter.

She gave him a timid smile and said, "sure."

Chief nodded, suddenly exhausted. All this talking really took his energy away.

He turned and walked back to his room. When he arrived there, his first thought was to sleep. However much he wanted to do that, though, he could not. He needed to fix his motion sensor before he rested. He would need it if he was going out to town again.

He sat at his desk and was placing his helmet down when he heard a knock on the door.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?" asked the boy, sounding bored.

"No," the Chief replied instinctively. Then he remembered what Riven had said. "No, wait. I meant to say yes." He went to the door quickly, hoping the boy hadn't gone yet.

The boy stood just outside, a hopeful expression on his face. "Sir I… wow, you're pale." The Chief glared daggers at him, and he gulped. "But pale in a good way! Very fashionable. So… what can I help you with?"

The Chief paused for a moment, deciding if he really wanted to do this, then stepped aside and let Reighlen go through.

"I need some help with my helmets sensors," he said. "It hasn't been working for a while now. And my shields might need a new battery."

Reighlen nodded and began to prod around the helmet. The Chief wasn't entirely sure if the boy understood what he was saying, but he decided to just let him do what he could anyways.

After a moment of hesitation, Chief put his weapons away and joined Reighlen.

"You know, I can probably spice this up," he said, looking at the Chief with wide, excited eyes. "Put in an identifier system like the summoners have, maybe a team roster for league matches, stuff like that. I could probably put in one of the new micro-generator crystals, boost up your shield capacity. I think VI had some of those lying around."

The Chief was taken aback; clearly he had underestimated the boy. His knowledge of technology was… impressive, for a primitive human, to say the least. And while he really didn't want to mess up with ONI property, it was currently in his possession and having it in this state was a tactical liability. "So I take it you can fix it?" he asked.

Reighlen nodded. "Sure, sure. I'll just need to buy some new parts, replace some stuff, but I think I can help you out. Sweeten it all up."

"I… don't have any money," said the Chief haltingly. He hadn't really thought about the 'buying' aspect of the repairs.

Reighlen blinked. "You're a league champion," he said with a funny face. "The league pays you to be here."

The Chief just blinked. He had never, ever gotten paid for doing his job. "Are you sure?" he asked, just to be safe.

His assistant nodded again, that funny face still present. "You just gotta pick it up from the League Champion Service Office. It's all stored there in an account." He smiled proudly. "Learned that in my Summoner training classes."

The Spartan shook his head. He had never actually used credits, or gold, or any sort of curreny before, and now that he actually had money… he wasn't sure what he was going to do with it.

"Okay," the Master Chief stated. "Let's start."

* * *

_Elsewhere_

Marin walked down the metal walkway, his footsteps echoing around the space. The walkway was one of many suspended above the metal cavern, each one leading to a knew laboratory of arcane and forbidden sciences. He was currently on his way to see his employer, who was working in one of the more scattered laboratories.

Trust him to make his life just a little bit harder.

He calmly walked up to his employer, who was currently working on some sort of weapon system that Marin could not fully see.

Marin clicked his heels together to announce his presence, having no words to speak.

The Scientist didn't even turn. "This is yours," he said coolly, disinterested.

Marin bristled. No one ever talked to him this way, not even the brutal, tyrannical warlords that had hired him out in the past.

The Scientist turned around, holding a long weapon in his hands. It had graceful, organic lines and was long and cylindrical. It was black with lime coloured lights emanating from vents along the sides.

Marin looked up at the scientist. "Is it accurate?" he asked. He needed to be sure it was a good substitute for his traditional bow.

The Scientist gave a smile that looked more like he was baring his teeth. "It is more than sufficient for your needs. I believe that you will find it far more effective than your compact bow."

Marin picked up the weapon. It was far, far lighter than he had expected. He ran a hand down the side, feeling the smoothness of the weapon. There were several buttons along the side, near the trigger. He pressed one in, and a sight popped up. He peered through, and was surprised to see it had a higher magnification than his bows sights.

"I require this to be tested," his employer said, "before I create more weapons of similar designs."

"Do you have any specific targets in mind, or shall I choose?"

"I have someone," he said. "The first step in my plan. I trust you will do adequately." He handed Marin a card, which he took. He knew what would be on it: the time, date, name, and face of his target, as well as a map of his location. The rest he would have to figure out for himself.

His Employer turned away, dismissing Marin with a backwards sweep of his hand.

Marin bristled again. He was glad his mask hid his face from the world, or else it would be easy to see the fury etched on his face.

It didn't matter in the end, though. He didn't need anyone.

* * *

**Blarg. Unfortunately for me, I can't actually remember which line ONI used for Spartans. I wanted to look through the novels, but I didn't actually get around to it. I only remember a marine asking where he could volunteer, and a Spartan responding that they were selected or something. W/E, hopefully you guys got the gist.**

**And secondly, At first I thought it was OOC for our hero to ask Riven for help, but I kinda just thought 'screw it' in the end and left it the way it was instead of changing it. The Chief does ask for help once in a while from non-Spartans, so I guess its fine.**

**As every other time, if there's anything I could do better, anything you particularly liked or disliked, drop a review to help me out.**

**Or don't.**

**Whichever comes first.**


	10. Chapter 10

**SUUUUUUUUUUP.**

**And here's another chapter. Just to specify/recap: the Chief is 'going out' for weapons cuz he has yet to receive a second weapons shipment from the _Dawn _which may or may not contain cc weapons.**

**Ahat else? oh yeah, the Chief is incapable of repairing most of his own shit, because logic. (According to the novels, he can only do really small things. THEREFOR, he needs others to get things done for him. And since his armour is pretty is becoming a liability...)**

**Aaaaaand yeah. Enjoy?**

* * *

Chapter 10 – Exiles and Cyborgs first

The Master Chief stood on a street filled with market stalls, each one selling all manner of exotic goods. Despite the fact that the Chief had money to buy things now, he didn't even bother to peer at their wares, knowing there was nothing that would interest him. He was currently waiting for Riven.

They had agreed the day before on a time to meet up, and naturally the Chief arrived an hour early, scouting out the area for potential threats. It also gave him time to test out his new motion sensor, and it was working perfectly. Civilians were marked by yellow dots, and potential hostiles were marked out by new blue dots.

The Chief had tried as hard as he could to think of a reason to not show up, but he couldn't. He knew that the _Dawn_ would carry no weapon small enough to serve as a replacement for his combat knife. In the end, he had no choice but to show up.

Everyone gave the Master Chief a wide berth; people seemed to recognize him and were still wary of what happened the other day.

A blue dot moved slowly towards him from behind, but the Chief didn't turn around, assuming it was Riven.

It wasn't.

"Why hello there," a feminine voice purred, practically in his ear.

The Chief turned around, giving himself enough room to use his magnum if need be.

The blue dot was a league champion - she had bright, curly, flaming red hair and wore a pirate hat. She smiled at the Chief with half-lidded eyes.

"What's a big guy like yourself doing out here alone?" she asked. "Need some company?"

"No," the Chief responded flatly. "I'm waiting for someone." He had no idea who this was, but she was being an annoyance. The Chief briefly wondered how much trouble he would get in if he hit a fellow champion of the Summoners Rift.

"Oh come on," she purred, moving closer. "I thi-"

"Sarah?"

The women half grimaced and turned around, smiling as soon as she saw who had spoken. "Riven! I had no idea you'd be out here too!" She spread her arms wide.

Riven frowned and looked between the Chief and Sarah. "I'm helping the Chief out," she said.

The Chief quickly distanced himself from the red haired woman.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Wow, Riven," she said. "I didn't think you were this adventurous."

Riven blinked and clenched a fist, face reddening. Sarah began to smirk, putting a hand on her hip. The Chief watched the two of them with confusion, completely lost as to what was going on. This was one of those times were he was glad the mask hid his face.

There was a tense moment, then Riven turned to the Chief and grabbed his armoured hand. "Come on," she said, refusing to meet his eyes.

She led him down onto another street of stall, away from Sarah's laughter.

"Who was that?" asked the Chief. While he really didn't care, he felt it would be wrong not to ask.

"That," said Riven, not meeting his eyes, "was Sarah Fortune, the bounty hunter. It isn't a good idea to get caught up with her."

The Chief didn't reply. He did not really understand what 'get caught up with' meant, but he planned on avoiding it.

A few people stared at the pair of them, some snickering at the sight of the white haired woman leading around the massive armoured knight. The Chief didn't understand the laughter, though, so he just ignored it.

The Chief looked past all the areas that Riven was leading him passed, committing them to memory. Eventually his eyes alighted on Riven's back, and realized she wasn't wearing what she usually did in the league. She wore civilian clothing, and it made the Chief feel rather awkward, though he didn't know why.

Eventually she led him to a medium sized shop in a rather busy area of the city. He could see all manner of weapons in the windows: swords, axes, bows, long-swords, great-axes and more besides. There was a curious lack of ranged weapons, much to the Chief's confusion.

Riven led him inside, quickly letting go of his hand when a bell chimed through the store. A man walked in from a door behind the counter, wiping his sooty hands on his not-so-white apron.

"Riven, my dear!" he called out. "What brings you in today? More repairs?"

"Not today, Strum," Riven replied. She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. "My friend here needs a weapon."

Chief tensed slightly at the word 'friend'. It made him feel awkward. He wasn't here to make friends.

"Friend, eh?" Strum walked up to the Chief, eyeing him. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Strum, city blacksmith."

Chief took the outstretched hand and shook gently. "Master Chief," he said. No use in giving out his full title to someone he wouldn't see again.

"So, watcha looking fer, Mastur Chef?" The man returned to his place behind the counter and gestured to the weapons lined up underneath the glass.

The Chief thought for a moment. He had not given this much thought. What weapon did he want? He could get a knife to replace his now useless one, but any knife small enough to fit in his shoulder guard would suffer the same fate as his last one. He looked over the rows of weapons and decided that a short blade would be best, since he would be able to transfer his combat knife training to it. Or maybe he could transfer energy sword techniques instead. He'd have to test the weight of the sword first before deciding, though.

"A sword," he said. "Preferably short, forearm length."

The man nodded and began to stack weapons on the counter. The next hour passed with the Chief trying out different weapons (and failing) while Riven watched, laughing. Apparently energy sword techniques were meant solely for energy swords.

Eventually he decided on a short gladius, the blade slightly longer than the Chief's forearm. That meant the blade was more of a sword to the average person than a short-sword, but it worked fine for him. It was silver inlaid with black, and slightly serrated towards the hilt. It was a stabbing weapon, and it fit the Chief's combat style well.

Riven just kept laughing, commenting on how the Chief used his blade.

When Strum listed the price, the Chief had been going to pay the price of the weapon in full because he didn't know much about bargaining, but Riven stepped in and began to list off prices with Strum, eventually deciding on a price that was little more than half of the original.

As they left the store, Chief wondered why Riven had bargained for him. Was the original price that bad? The Chief realized that he had absolutely no idea about anything in this civilian environment. He also realized that he was actually glad he had Riven around. If nothing else, he would be able to see how to interact with these people.

They walked for a bit aimlessly until Riven said, "Why don't we go eat something?"

The Chief had to stop himself from saying 'no' automatically. Now that he was out, he might as well stay out. It would provide him the perfect opportunity to study the city, in case the data was needed later. Not to mention the fact that his last excursion out hadn't given him much time to study his surroundings. And he knew that no matter how much he'd rather be inside the Institute, he'd get bored of it soon enough.

They eventually arrived at a small restaurant on a side street. It had an outdoor seating area and an indoor one, and it seemed to be self-sit.

"This one's really good," Riven said as she led them to a table on the inside of the restaurant. The Chief took one look at the fancy wooden seat, then led Riven to one of the tables on the outside, which had stone benches for seating. Riven just shrugged and sat down, the Chief sitting across from her.

It was a lot emptier outside than inside, much to the Chiefs liking. He grabbed one of the menus lying in the middle of the table and began to browse through it.

It was many pages long and Chief actually had some trouble attempting to find what he wanted to eat. It was his first time at a restaurant, after all, and he wanted to get something good.

Riven was not having the same troubles he was, though. The scanned through the menu quickly and found what she wanted immediately. It seemed like she was quite familiar with this place, and the Chief told her so.

"I used to eat a lot here, before I got used to the League," she replied, downcast.

The Chief felt immediately bad for bringing out bad memories. He wanted to apologize, but didn't know how to do so properly, so he stayed silent. He continued looking at the menu, and eventually he found something on the menu he wanted: some sort of native fish with more fish as a side.

Riven called the waiter over, and they both placed their orders.

The man left, and silence fell.

Riven tried to start a conversation, and the Chief tried to not kill it, but he was unable to. He just had no idea how this 'socialization' thing worked.

Riven stared out at the large group of people entering the restaurant and said, "Are you really the last one, then?"

"What?" said the Chief; even though he was pretty sure he knew what she was talking about.

She tried met his eyes. "The last… Spartan? That's what you're called, right?"

The Chief nodded warily, wondering why Riven decided to bring this up.

"I know what it's like to be a lone survivor," she said. "It's the kind of thing you never really get over, especially if you're the last of a tight-knit squad."

Chief felt a rush of emotions and looked up, breaking the minimal eye contact he had with his visor on. "Spartans never die," he said, trying to take reign of all his feelings. "We're always listed as Missing In Action, even when there's proof of death. That doesn't happen often, though; Spartans tend to go missing a lot. Glassing tends to wipe away evidence."

"Spartans never die, huh?" she chuckled. "It seems like a nice sentiment, if not necessarily true."

The Chief nodded. Sometimes the tradition seemed more depressing than helpful, although he understood the need for it. Sometimes, though, he jsut wished they would get honoured in the way they deserved.

Riven chuckled a little bit louder, as if a funny thought occurred to her. "You know what? You're probably the only Spartan legitimately missing in action, and your command is probably certain you're dead, on account of that whole dimension collapse-y thingy."

It took a few moments for the Chief to understand what Riven was saying, but he let out a short snort when he did.

Riven gave him a bemused look. "Was that your laugh?" she asked.

The Chief shrugged and took off his helmet as their food was placed before them.

Riven gave him one more bemused look before turning to her food.

Chief's meal looked absolutely delicious. Riven's meal was a sandwich of some sort with a bunch of sides, and it looked equally appetizing.

The Chief dug in, enjoying the taste of the food and the memories it brought back.

_Chief sitting on a beach, his Spartans around him, roasting Calamari they caught from the ocean as they waited for Mendez to get himself out of his 'predicament'._

Riven eyed the Chief over the rim of her water glass. "You know," she began hesitantly, "I could teach you a fighting style I know that would work well with your gladius. Because, after all, your style is ridiculous."

The Chief really didn't think his style was all that funny; it was just different. While it wasn't perfect, Spartans made do with what they could. Not to mention the fact that applying knife-fighting styles to a short sword wasn't flawless. It would still work in combat, though.

Nonetheless, the Chief accepted. It would do him some good to learn more about the fighting styles of Noxians, in case he needed to fight against them someday.

Riven smiled. "I have a condition," she said.

_Of course, _thought Chief.

"You have to go shopping with me. We can't have you wearing that armour out here all the time."

The Master Chief paled.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

Nightfall was still quite a ways away, but Marin wasn't going to wait for the cover of night to make his move.

His target was a Demacian noble currently stationed in the outskirts of Kalamanda. He had tracked the man for the better part of the day, and finally an opportunity presented itself.

The noble was going back to his room in the Demacian quarters to do paperwork.

Marin now sat just outside the building, hiding in the shadows of an alleyway. He checked the charge on his new rifle: primed.

His rifle was truly marvelous: it had many features and its design was aesthetically pleasing. It looked like something alien. The only problem he had was the glowing lights; he had to cover them up so as not to reveal his position.

Marin climbed up the ladder that he had placed in the alleyway and arrived on the roof adjacent to the building. He glanced around: no one was in sight.

He began to crawl, slowly. Once he reached the edge, he jumped across, and rolled once he landed. He stayed upright this time, padding to the window set into the side of the building.

It was unlocked: good. It would shave some time of the mission tome he had set for himself.

He entered the building, scowling in distaste at the blue and gold walls. He had always hated Demacian architecture.

He quickly moved off the main path into a servant's corridor. He followed the path up several floors, always pushing himself against the wall whenever he thought he heard someone close by, always ducking low when he passed a servants quarters or kitchen.

He couldn't be discovered. Yet.

Eventually he made it to the floor the ambassador was staying on. He made his way through the halls, and eventually made it into a large circular chamber from which a bunch of other hallways branched off. The floor was marble, but with a square of what looked like solid gold in the middle. If he hadn't been on the job, he would have grabbed a few of them to bring back.

Dead ahead was the hallway where his targets room was located.

And in the way of it were three burly Demacian soldiers.

"Halt!" one said, drawing his weapon.

_As if I'm gunna do that, _thought Marin.

He propped his rifle against his hip and pressed a button. The weapon began to reform, the barrel elongating and metal plates retracting. It took less than five seconds to transform.

He fired.

A beam of scintillating green energy struck the first guard, melting through his breastplate and mauling his chest.

The second soldier stumbled and ran forwards, sword raised high.

Marin, without moving his finger off the trigger, passed the beam over his body, neatly bisecting him.

Marin stopped firing and smiled, admiring his handiwork.

The last man stared open mouthed at his comrades. He shook a little bit. His fist turned white as he gripped his sword.

He turned to the assassin and hurled his blade with all his might.

Marin caught it one handed, and threw the blade right back at the soldier.

The soldiers face was briefly registered shock; and then turned to pain as realization set in.

Marin walked to the dying man and shoved the blade in deeper, ending his life quickly.

He pressed the button again, and the weapon reverted back to its original state. He checked the power gauge: three quarters full. Apparently, firing it in suppression mode used a hell of a lot of power. He'd have to be more careful when using it.

The assassin took a moment to admire his weapon. While arguably louder and larger than his old bow, it was much more effective. And it looked cool as fuck, which was always a bonus.

He walked forwards, making his way towards the door of his target. He jiggled the doorknob: locked. He heard shuffling on the other side.

He raised his rifle and pointed it at the lock. The weapon discharged with a crack and the lock shattered.

He pushed open the door, and saw the Demacian ambassador standing in the middle of the room with a blade in his hand. The blade was clearly a two handed weapon, but the man held it one handed. The weight of the folded steel dragged the weapon point first to the ground, and the assassin snickered at the man's obvious incompetence.

The man paled at the sight of the weapon in Marin' hands. "W-w-what do y-you want?" he stammered out, backing away, letting the blade fall completely towards the ground.

Marin snickered again. There was nowhere for the man to run.

He calmly raised his rifle, and lined up the sights with the man's head.

"Your life," he responded, and fired.

* * *

**O.K. **

**So my intratubez has been down for the last few days, allowing me to replay Halo 4 on legendary. Such fun, Much wow. I always laugh when Del Rio orders Palmer to arrest Chief. Who in the hell would think that's a good idea?**

**ANYWAYS, ignoring my rant, just a few things on Marin. Since he's an OC character, you guys wont know what he looks like... so take a look at Arctic Ops Varus in the store or on the googles. Change the armour to a dark steel, and imagine it more like halo 4 CIO armour. Change the camo to black camo, and all the light-up-ey bits to green. BINGO, an assassin straight from the depths of wtf.**

**Again, if there is any part you guys didn't like, did like, or any mistakes I made, don't hesitate to point them out. This is still my first story, so I can use all the help I can get. Getting interactions down tends to be a bit difficult.**

**CYA.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello again. **

**Has anyone noticed that all the chapter titles so far are Halo checkpoint titles?**

**Prolly don't care.**

**I want every chapter to be one, but I seem to be using all the god ones that I remember fast. If anyone remembers any, please, let me know. I don't wanna replay all the early halo's 'till the Master Chief collection comes out.**

**CHARGE!**

* * *

Chapter 11 - Your Ass, My Size-24… Boot

"That looks really, really tacky," said Reighlen. He was currently sitting on the Master Chief's sofa, head propped on one hand as he examined the clothing Chief had put on.

The Chief glanced down at his civilian clothing: something on his legs called 'jeans' and a black long sleeved shirt. He didn't understand how this looked tacky. Then again, he didn't understand civilian clothing at all, so…

He sighed. Reighlen seemed to take this as a sign that the Chief was pissed off (not true) and began to stammer, "But it's tacky in a good way! You know, really… fresh… and… cool…" he coughed.

The Chief looked at his clothes once more, and decided they were fine. "I'm going to the library," he announced, and moved to the open door.

Reighlen looked like he hadn't understood what the Chief said. "What? Just like that?"

The Chief didn't answer, he just began to walk. To him, there wasn't any point in saying anything else. The boy was likely to follow him regardless.

Reighlen closed the door and hurried to catch up to him. "You're really very odd around other people, you know that?" he said.

The Chief, again, didn't answer. He continued to walk, following the signs around the place to find the library. Reighlen followed him with a sigh of exasperation.

The Chief stopped abruptly, causing Reighlen to bump into his backside.

"Chief, that hurt!" he complained, rubbing his nose.

The Chief glanced back. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?" responded the boy, looking confused, but the Chief had already departed, moving towards the source of the noise. Even without his helmet, he was hearing was beyond that of a normal human, able to hear things from great distances. Right now, it sounded like people were fighting.

He moved fast, and soon found himself in the main hall of the League. On the ground floor there was a group of people arguing; three Champions from Demacia, three Champions from Noxus, and one lone figure in the middle trying to break it all up.

"Quit it, all of you! You are acting like children!" the center figure shouted. The Chief recognized her voice; it was Ashe, the frost archer.

One of the Noxians, a particularly dangerous looking redhead, waved a knife towards the other group.

"Not until these pigs say they are sorry," she said.

A small blonde in the Demacian group started at the words, balling her hands into fists, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder and a sharp "Luxanna" from a heavily armoured man in the back.

The Chief wondered if the frost archer would be able to keep the two opposing forces from fighting.

It seemed unlikely.

The Chief knew he should leave. If he went down there, he would be doing what he said he wouldn't do: help the League solve its political problems.

He turned away; ready to find Reighlen and head to the library. He managed a whole 5 steps before he heard the clash of metal on metal.

He turned. Ashe was cowering beneath a hooded man with an arm blade, who was attempting to beat down the… hand claws of a blue-skinned woman.

The Chief sprinted as fast as he could. For a Spartan, that was pretty damned fast, and he covered the ground in less than a second.

In an instant he stood in the middle of the group and pushed aside the two fighters.

"Enough," he ordered.

There was a look of disbelief on their faces. To them, the Chief had just appeared in their midst. He probably looked like a ghost, too, considering his paleness.

The vicious looking undead creature in the behind the other two Noxians licked its decayed lips, its gaze sweeping over the Demacians.

In an instant the Chiefs magnum was out and pointed at the creature's head. "Don't even think about it," he told it. The creature moved back, cowed.

A tense silence descended.

"All of you go back to your rooms," said the Chief. "You are league Champions. Act like it."

Another tense silence.

Slowly the two groups drifted apart, but not without muttering and dark glances at each other.

As soon as they were a safe distance away, the Chief holstered his magnum and held out a hand to Ashe, helping her up.

"Thank you," she panted. "Those guys were really getting out of hand."

"Why?" asked the Chief. While he wasn't really interested, he thought it would be a good idea to figure out what he had just gotten himself involved in, and if there would be any repercussion as a result of doing so.

"Well," began Ashe, checking her elbow for scrapes, "Yesterday a Demacian ambassador was killed in Kalamanda. There was a massive outcry from the Demacians: they think the Noxians did it, but they are denying it. The Noxians in Kalamanda actually had to withdraw from the city because there was a risk of violence."

"And so league Champions are trying to finish the fight," finished Chief. Ashe nodded.

While the Chief did not have a particularly strong grasp on politics in Valoran, he was sure an event like this would really cause tensions to rise, maybe force the Summoners into action.

The Chief wasn't too happy about that. It would mean he would have to fight, and therefor stay longer.

The Chief looked Ashe over one more time to make sure she was unharmed, and then walked away, intending to go to the library.

Ashe stopped him. "Why don't you stop by Gragas' bar tonight?" she asked pleasantly. "All of the League Champs go there. Well, most, anyways."

He turned and blinked. A bar? He had never been to one, though he knew marines loved them with a passion. But what would he do in a bar?

It was then that he realized he hadn't said no automatically. Probably because he had spent all of yesterday saying no to Riven's ridiculous outfit ideas. Even he could say no only so many times.

Ashe was still looking at him expectantly.

"Maybe," he said at last, and walked away.

* * *

The Chief made his way towards the bar area, which was in a large wooden building just separate from the main Institute. The Spartan had to admit to himself that it was pretty smart to do that: it would avoid drunken super-powerful Champions from ruining the place. Probably. Hopefully.

Light spilled from the windows of the structure and he could hear laughter coming from inside. Two people were standing just outside the door, deeply entwined.

The Chief tried to ignore them, swerving around to reach the door.

The pink haired one gasped and the one in the purple dress looked around to see if anyone heard –

That's when the Chief recognized them. He tried to speed up to doge the Sheriffs gaze, but she locked on to him immediately.

"Chief!" she cried, pushing Vi away from her, which did not work so well seeing as how Vi was the one against the wall. Although it did succeed in giving the enforcer a bruise.

The Chief stopped, scratching the back of his head, and not making eye contact. "Sheriff," he greeted politely.

Caitlyn blushed. "It's not what it looks like," she stammered out. "There was something in my hair, and Vi was helping me out…" she trailed off. Vi snickered.

The Chief nodded diplomatically. The whole situation was rather awkward for him and he wanted to leave as soon as he could.

"Whatcha doin' here, Tin Man?" inquired Vi. She as leaning against the wall, seemingly content.

The Chief shrugged in response. He wasn't really sure himself why he had decided to come by. It was definitely not for the alcohol: he had never consumed any and likely never would. It wasn't to socialize, either. He assumed it was just curiosity; the fact that he was able to do things he was forbidden from doing before.

And the fact that there was nothing else to do around here.

"Well, don't let us keep ya," Vi said, pulling Caitlyn close once more. The Chief turned away sharply and entered the building.

Inside it was a ruckus of noise. People were talking and dancing and drinking.

The Chief sat down at the bar, gazing around the room. There were Champions, assistants, Summoners and aides but no one was armed, and he recognized no one. Not that he expected to; he only knew a handful of Champs, after all.

The large bartender – who he assumed was Gragas – came up to him, asking what he wanted to drink. The Chief just asked for water, earning him a confused look.

As Gragas brought him the drink, someone gracefully sat beside him.

The Chief glanced over and saw that Ashe was beside him.

"I'm glad you came by," she said, watching the crowd of people. "It's a much more fun than being in your room the entire night."

To the Chief, it sounded as if she spoke form experience, but he didn't comment on that. She may not have meant anything by it. Instead he said, "Not the kind of place for a queen."

Ashe gave him a sidelong glance and a grin as if sharing a secret. "It's a fun getaway," she said. "Can't be ruler all the time."

"You can never get away from what you are," said the Spartan, earning him a brows-raised look from Ashe.

"Interesting piece of wisdom," she said.

Chief shrugged. "A… teacher told me that." He didn't elaborate any further, unwilling to explain the reasoning behind the phrase that Déjà had told him. It would probably reveal too much.

There was a crash from the other side of the room. A large, muscular man was flipping over some tables, much to the disapproval of Gragas.

"Here he goes again," Ashe said, face palming.

"Know him?" asked Chief. The man was drunk enough for Chief to consider him a threat.

Ashe sighed. "He's my husband." She sounded displeased.

Chief blinked and tried to picture the drunken muscular man with Ashe, but failed.

Ashe stood up and walked up to the man, placing a restraining hand on his arm and telling him to stop. He responded by pushing her away, grabbing a full glass and draining it in a gulp before smashing it against the table. The drunker patrons cheered.

Ashe walked back up to him and said forcefully, "Tryndamere, stop. You're drunk." She was loud enough, and her tone royal enough, to cause some of the drunken patrons to quiet down.

Tryndamere's smile faded. "What did you say to me, bitch?" he asked venomously.

"I said, yo-"

That was all she managed before Tryndamere slapped her in the face, hard.

The bar went silent.

In an instant the Chief was in between Ashe and Tryndamere, a mirror to what had happened earlier that day.

Tryndamere smiled up at the Chief, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He laughed loudly, moving closer to the Chief as if to intimidate him into submission.

The Chief wasn't in the least bit fazed.

The Master Chief, like most Spartans, wasn't overly muscular like Tryndamere. They needed to be lithe and able to wear their armour. Their true strength lay in their muscle density: he could be half the size of an opponent and have ten times their strength.

He knew he could beat the man before him.

But was he allowed? He was sure that hitting Champions was against league rules. The Chief couldn't allow himself to be kicked out; his chances of returning home would be less than zero.

But then again, Tryndamere _had _struck the first blow.

It was then that the Chief realized had gotten himself into another political situation. Standing between a queen and her king? He probably shouldn't be here. He didn't even belong here.

Tryndamere looked down at his wife and snickered as he saw her struggle to get up.

The Chief's thoughts evaporated and he set his jaw and propelled his hand forwards.

The blow connected, and even though the Chief had pushed lightly with an open palm, Tryndamere was knocked back several steps.

Tryndamere scowled at the Chief and tried to move towards him, but in his drunken state all he did was stumble and fall over. The rest of the bar patrons laughed.

Chief looked around for Ashe, meaning to help her up, but found that she was already on her feet. Her mouth was set in a grim line as she nodded to the Chief in thanks. She grabbed her husband and began to drag him outside.

Everyone began to talk and drink and dance all at once, as if nothing had happened.

The Master Chief just shook his head. This really wasn't the place for him at all.

He turned on his heel and left, leaving his water on the counter.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

"That was good work," said the scientist.

Marin nodded his thanks, standing rigid. He didn't need gratitude, his job was his job. Only fools needed recognition for what they did. What was glory from citizenry compared to the ability to shape nations from the shadows?

The man put his hands together. "Everything is moving along just as planned," he said. He ordered Marin out with a nod of his head.

Marin walked out, each footstep carrying him away from his employer's cold inner sanctum. He paused for a moment and looked over the railing at the production below. It was a mess as the engineers frantically tried to put together their final products. Most of them, he knew, were still in the earliest stages. They would be perfected over time, each iteration deadlier than the last.

As he walked away, Marin swore that if he listened carefully enough, he could hear his employer saying "soon, soon."

Influence from the shadows, indeed.

* * *

**And there goes another chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it. I can't actually tell if half of what I write is good or not, so...**

**See you next time?**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - A Champion to steer by

The Master Chief sat in the cafeteria, eating his lunch of eggs and a meat sandwich. The room was mostly empty, which was more than fine by the Chief.

Ever since the day he had stopped the Noxians and the Demacians from fighting and had punched Tryndamere, rumors spread about him. At first he had tried his time honoured technique of isolating himself until everyone forgot about it, but a day later he was called out for a league match. Despite him resolving to not draw attention to himself during the match, he got a pentakill and won the game by himself, and the rumors started again.

So the Chief decided to just take the rumors head on, assuming they would be over as soon as people saw him act the way he usually did.

Doing nothing at all.

The Chief had to admit to himself, though, that it was rather boring doing this. Without a galactic war to fight, The Chief had no idea how to pass the time. It was all very unsettling.

"Mind if I sit here?" asked a soft female voice. Chief recognized it immediately. He glanced to the right to see Riven standing there, holding a plate of noodles. She was wearing her usual outfit of robe, corset and mismatched armour, unlike the Chief who was wearing his unusual outfit of civilian clothing.

He shrugged, and Riven sat across form him. She was holding a pair of… sticks and was twirling noodles and shoving them into her mouth.

"So," she said, slurping the noodles, "I heard you smashed Tryndamere's face in."

The Chief sighed internally. Rumors were like wildfire.

"I didn't hit him that hard," he said. Riven snickered.

"Don't worry," she said. "I would have done it too, he's a total dick. The first time I joined the league, and he saw my sword, he tried to hit on me. And he was married."

The Chief raised his eyebrow, which was, aside from the laugh in the restaurant, the most emotion he had shown to Riven.

Riven just shrugged and continued twirling noodles around the sticks. Chief grabbed his sandwich and finished it with two quick bites, and started on his eggs. He reasoned that if he ate faster he could leave quicker.

"You eat a lot, you know that?" Riven said through a mouthful of noodles.

Chief did know that, in fact. He wondered how much he wanted to tell her. He decided it was safe to let a little bit of information out. "Genetically enhanced body," he said finally. It not like that information was very secret, either. Even the half-human Heimerdinger had guessed. "Need lots of food."

He paused for a moment, then added, "And this is a lot better than military rations."

Riven laughed out loud. "Bad where you came from, too, huh? Back in Noxian army, it literally tasted like manure."

The Chief thought that Riven's laugh sounded pleasant.

He dismissed the thought.

Then he remembered he was still wearing his supply belt, which included his half-full ration pack. He hadn't eaten very much during the siege of earth and the events that had followed. He took out one of the ration bars, and held it out to Riven.

Riven eyed the condensed nutrient bar warily, like it was a snake ready to strike. "Is that what you ate?"

The Chief nodded, and she grimaced but took it. "It looks utterly tasteless and textureless," she complained, but took a bite anyways. Immediately her grimaced turned into a full on gagging motion.

The Chief allowed himself to smile.

"Oh… that tastes TERRIBLE. Is that thing supposed to be lemon flavoured or something? Because whoever thought of that should be killed."

The Chief gave a snort, and Riven smiled.

"How did you guys survive living off of that?" she asked, holding the bar for a moment longer before throwing it away.

"Only half of us died," Chief said. It took Riven a few moments to realize he was joking and laugh.

They both turned back to their food.

"I'm glad you decided to wear some clothes for once," She said, gesturing towards Chief with her sticks. "Much more comfortable than armour."

Chief shrugged. "I'm still wearing my under suit."

She snorted and went back to eating.

The Chief decided that he could try eating a little bit slower.

* * *

The Chief spent the rest of the day with Riven. Most of the time was spent in the training room, with Riven teaching him techniques for his new gladius. Shockingly for the Chief, he wasn't the least but disturbed that there were other people in the training room watching him.

He put it down to being eager to learn new combat styles, but he wasn't sure that was the whole reason.

The rest of the time, the pair of them had just walked around the halls of the Institute while Riven bombarded him with questions about the UNSC and the human-covenant war. He answered all her questions, except for the classified bits, and it ended up making him feel a little bit homesick. His thoughts had turned to Johnson, and Hood, and Miranda, and Cortana, and even the Arbiter.

It had been enough to spoil his relative good mood, and he left Riven alone in the hallway earlier than he would have liked.

He returned to his room, but was stopped just outside by a man who was covered in metal from head to toe. The Chief tensed up slightly, half excepting a fight, half excepting a trap.

"Ah, Spartan-117," the man said. "The Master Chief. I'm glad to have finally met you."

The Master Chief knew he shouldn't have been surprised at the greeting, but he was anyways. Content with the knowledge that this man was not yet trying to kill him, he relaxed his pose to a more casual position. "Who are you?" he asked, not bothering to ask how the man knew him. If it wasn't from the fact that he was the new guy, or from the rumors spreading around, it was from the plaque on the door.

"I am Viktor, The Machine Herald." The man – Viktor – stood a little bit straighter at that, if it were possible. His posture was even more ramrod straight than the Spartans. "I have come to gain your assistance for my Glorious Evolution."

The Chief blinked and said no right of the bat. The last thing he was interested in was aiding random political parties for even more random sounding plots.

"Master Chief. You are the perfect person, the perfect blend of the weak and the strong, the flesh and the machine. You are the key. Together, we could propel Valoran forward into an age of technological prosperity, free from the constraints of flesh and blood."

The man completed his proclamation with a wide sweep of his arms to the sky/ceiling.

The Chief frowned. To him, that sounded like a terrible idea – but, again, he wasn't here to get caught up in political problems.

"No," he said again. "Now please leave."

Viktor tilted his head, an oddly human gesture for one so obviously machine. Though the Chief could not see the man's eyes, he could tell that, had they not been in the League, Viktor would have done something exceedingly foolish.

"I shall take my leave, but I beg of you to reconsider."

The Chief watched the man leave, and then waited a few more minutes to make sure he was really gone. He then retreated back into his room. He scanned the room thoroughly, making sure Viktor had not bugged it.

And then he just sat there, clutching his dog tags.

He had briefly considered going to the High Councillors office to see if they had made any progress on getting him back home, but he was sure that with the recent assassination and the rising tensions between Demacia and Noxus they would have their hands full.

What would Cortana want him to do in this situation?

She had always told him in the past to 'go out there' and 'make friends,' but would she say so even when stuck in another dimension? When humanity was possibly fighting for their lives on the other side?

Could he afford to be lax?

He sighed, turning her chip over and over in his hands.

He knew what she would say. Something along the lines of 'stop being an anti-social Neanderthal and get out there. You can't be expected to hold everyone's hand.'

The Master Chief lay back on his bed, trying to decide what he wanted to do.

He stayed awake the entire night.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

Marin walked along the cold metal corridor, descending deeper into the complex. The walls were inscribed with runes which Marin couldn't read, proving the age of this place.

He found it faintly interesting that such an ancient place hadn't been discovered before, but considering the city it was locating under, it wasn't much of a surprise. He wasn't even sure if the people in power even knew half the things that went on beneath their precious realm.

He passed by engineers and scientists but he ignored them and they ignored him, which suited Marin just fine. Anything that wasn't part of his current job was an impediment.

He eventually reached a metal door, almost twice his height. He looked to the left, as his employer had instructed, and found the panel. Despite its out-of-this-world appearance, and his instinctive apprehension of it, he placed his hand on it, and it lit a bright blue colour. The door clicked and slid open a moment after.

He walked into the large room, taking in his surroundings. There was a metal walkway high above the room. The room itself was filled with large tracts with a new spec of automaton on it. There were mechanical arms of some sort working on each one, screwing in bolts and sealing metal carapaces together with beams of pure magic. Power crystals were stored in large containers in the back, and they gave off synchronized hums and pulses of energy every few moments.

The arms gave Marin a strange feeling. Their purple sheen gave them an out-of-this-world look, and it disturbed him greatly.

"Sir," a female voice said from behind Marin.

He turned around, suppressing the urge to lash out at the person who snuck up on him. The Scientist was blonde, eager, and looked all too young to be here.

He used his arm to gesture to the Automatons. "Is this it?"

The Scientist nodded. "These are just prototypes," she said. "If they work out, we'll mass-produce more of them."

Marin nodded, but wondered how they were going to mass-produce anything in this room. It wasn't close to being big enough for that purpose. Not to mention the fact that they looked already mass-produced, but that was less important.

The Scientist licked her lips. "The Doctor said you would be able to help us test the automatons."

Marin turned his head sharply.

_This is new,_ he thought.

"Did he give you any… guidelines… regarding the testing?"

The Scientist looked a little bit confused. "No," she said, putting her hands together. "He said to trust your judgment."

Marin nodded his head and turned back to the machines. "Then I have the perfect target in mind."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - Dead or Alive...Actually, Just Dead

The Master Chief stood in the middle of the training room, going over every technique Riven had shown him.

Swing up, down, flip blade, slash right, spin, low slash left, reverse blade, stab up, feint back, slash right, slip blade, pull down, disarm.

The Chief was a fast learner, and found the technique fairly easy to master. It involved him using his momentum to carry the blade in arcs that would disarm any opponent that tried to block them. It wasn't all that dissimilar from Elite combat styles, except they didn't disarm opponents. They cut right through them – blade and all.

The Chief assumed that was pretty easy to do so when you're using a blade of raw plasma.

He went through the motions again, faster this time.

Swing up, down, flip blade, slash right, spin, low slash left, reverse blade, stab up, feint back, slash right, slip blade, pull down, disarm.

Each cut of the blade caused sent a whooshing noise around the room.

Eventually he would add his own flair into it, motions from other combat styles he'd mastered. For now, though, he just needed to make sure the basic motions were engraved in his head. He needed to be able to do this without thinking it or seeing the blade.

And besides that, he wanted to know this Noxian technique inside and out. He didn't know if he would ever be forced to fight one, but it was always good to be prepared.

He was so engrossed with his training that he had not noticed it at first. Eventually, though, he realized something was amiss. Voices were louder than usual, footsteps echoed much louder and more regularly.

People were yelling and running.

He sheathed his blade and moved towards the source of the noise. The hallway outside was relatively uncrowded, most of the people already having run by in the general location of the main hall. He began to walk, his long strides carrying him faster than the people sprinting. He walked into the main hall, where many Champions and Summoners were talking loudly.

Down the length of the hall, just outside the entrance at the gates of the League of Legends, a massive blue fire raged. Several Summoners and Champions were there, attempting to put out the blaze. The Champions were taking turns dumping water on it and blowing on it while the Summoners tried to invoke arcane magik.

They appeared struggling. The fire was barely flickering, its form a massive wall of immobile flame.

Even worse than the fire, Chief could hear the sound of gunfire coming from the city.

He needed to know what was going on.

He searched the crowd, looking for faces he knew, people he trusted. While that wasn't very many people, his gaze alighted on Reighlen, his assistant. He moved towards him, and people automatically made way for his armoured form.

"What's going on here?" he asked his assistant.

If Reighlen was disturbed or surprised by the Chief's sudden appearance, he didn't show it. "Apparently we're under attack," he said, eyes glued to the fire. "Like, ten minutes ago that fire appeared, right? And then there a bunch of loud noises started coming from the city, like fighting and bullets n' stuff, but no one can go over there and check because the main entrance is blocked off. And it seems to be resistant to magic or something, because the Summoners can't put it out."

"Has anyone tried exiting form the Reflection Chamber entrance?" asked Chief.

Reighlen shook his head. "No one's allowed to go through there. The doors only open one way, anyways."

Chief grunted and stared at the ethereal fire. Civilians would be getting hurt out there. Human civilians.

The Chief made a quick a decision and hoped that luck was on his side.

He began to sprint, heading straight towards the flames. He increased the strength of his forward and flank shields, reasoning that they would take more damage than his rear shields.

People began to move out of the way, staring slack-jawed at him or shouting. He ignored them all. He was just in front of the roaring fire now, and he ran right through it before he could think about what he was doing.

His helmet warning systems went off immediately, filling his HUD with red lights and caution symbols. The fire was so hot he could feel it through his armour, bodysuit and gel layer. His helmet's air scrubbers were at their maximum trying to filter all the smoke out. Some still made it through, though, making him cough.

And suddenly he was through.

His momentum carried him a few more paces before he stopped, and he breathed in the not-so-smoky air. His shields had been drained by nearly three quarters, and he feared what it would have done to his armour. It was hot as plasma, at least.

The sound of gunfire was more distinct now. The noise was more like a whine, though, than a gunshot. It sounded out of place and was maddeningly familiar, but he just couldn't tell what it was.

The screaming was also more distinct. There were crowds of people just outside the Institute, clearly wary of the unnatural fire but unwilling to distance themselves from the place they considered safest. As soon as he stepped into their midst they were around him, some trying to grab hold of his armour as if it would protect them, but unable to find purchase on the slippery energy shields.

He made his way past them, and reached around for his MA5C before remembering he had left it in his room. No matter, he still had his pistol and blade.

He drew both and headed towards the sound of the fighting.

He passed through the main road, and as he walked through the deserted side-streets, he realized that the police had done a much better job than he anticipated. They must have isolated the attackers to one small section of the city, or evacuated everyone out.

All of a sudden his motion sensors pinged – on red dot, one blue dot – and the wall just ahead of him on his right exploded outwards.

A mech of some sort hit the wall on the opposite side and raised its left arm, which ended in an outlandish – looking gun.

A man stepped through the ruined wall, carrying a large hammer. "Power Slam!" he yelled, leaping to the mech and smashing it to bits.

The Chief lowered his pistol, which had been aimed at the mech, for clearly the man was a League Champion.

The man wiped his brow, then looked at the Chief with recognition. "Master Chief," he said in a tone that sounded like relief. "Riven said you'd come. I'm Jayce, The Defender of Tomorrow."

Chief nodded in greeting before saying, "What's going on? And where's Riven?"

"A bunch of these Mechs hopped of the supply train and began attacking. Riven and a few other Champions are fighting the bulk of the automatons in the city plaza. I'm picking off all the ones that escaped."

The Chief knew where the city plaza was, so he nodded his thanks and set off.

"Good luck," said Jayce, and it seemed like he meant it.

After a moment of consideration, Chief replied with "good hunting."

One thing was bothering him, though. If the enemy had come from the supply train, how did they get close enough to the institute to start a fire? And if they had been close enough to start it, why would they not attack the institute itself?

He moved quickly, hearing the sounds of the fighting intensify. The streets stayed deserted, but there was the occasional smashed mech on the ground. There were also signs of battle along the walls and on the ground: scorch marks and blade marks and bullet holes and lines of molten stone.

While he was sure the signs would look foreign to any soldier from Runeterra, it was all too familiar to the Chief. He'd seen it over a hundred times before, in every place the Covenant decided to invade.

He was close, now. He detoured through the houses, unwilling to charge right in. Thankfully, the houses he went through were devoid of life. He really didn't want to have to deal with civilians in hiding.

He stopped to peer through a window. He could see the main plaza, and the battle raging there.

There was Riven, fighting alone on the flank, holding off three of the automatons. Each one had a blade, shaped like a leaf on its right arm. Its edge glowed a bright, sickly blue. Each slash they made cut glowing lines into the stone around them, but Riven's blade seemed intact – well, as intact as it could be.

There was Vi, fighting with a group of police officers in the center. The ground around them was littered with the pieces of fallen automatons. There were just as many human bodies there, too.

There, near the back lines, was the cowboy, fighting alongside a girl in ornate red armour. Blades floated around them, blocking incoming attacks as the Cowboy launched card after card into their midst.

All in all, the Chief reasoned the Champions were doing well. There were less than fifteen automatons left.

Although the Chief was once again confused. Only five Champions had been in the city? There were usually more on any given day.

The Chief didn't dwell on his thoughts, however. This wasn't the time.

He studied the armaments of his enemy for a bit, making sure he wasn't about to attack enemies without the proper intel. Each one's arm ended in a weapon. They had a slightly hunched appearance, and their backs carried a large, hump-like power generator. Their legs were double jointed: one bent back, one bent forwards.

They were sickeningly familiar.

He noticed a flash on the roof across from him.

Not wasting any time, he quickly jogged up the stairs, getting onto the roof of his own house. Each footfall sent creaks across the wooden framework.

Across from him, on the opposite roof, he could see that two automatons were maneuvering into a position where they could rain fire down onto the Champions.

Chief raised his magnum, lining up the sights with the closer one's head. He switched between the targets a few times, knowing he would need to be quick.

He fired twice in quick succession.

Two headless automatons fell to the street below. The sound of the magnum stopped everyone for a second. They looked up. Chief dropped down, not one to miss an opportunity.

The Automatons all immediately switched focus to the Spartan, ignoring everyone else.

Chief fired his magnum, diving into the mass of metal and began to lay waste with his gladius.

Time slowed down.

He swung up, cleaving a metal chest in half before bringing the blade down again, shattering the automaton in half.

He flipped his blade and drove it into the head of the automaton to the right of him before spinning around and cutting the legs off of two more metal constructs.

He took several hits then, bringing his recently re-charged shields down a quarter.

He reversed his blade again and drove it up, under the chin of the closest mech. He dove back just as another enemy opened fire on him.

Unfortunately, he dived into another automaton, and his momentum caused the enemies swinging blade to puncture his shields and cut a shallow furrow into it.

The Chief gritted his teeth, angry for making such a stupid mistake. He slashed at the automaton in several tight arcs, taking off each of its limbs.

Another enemy landed a blow on him, cutting another grove into his armour. Bullets impacted his side, scorching the paint a bit and making shallow dents.

Time began to speed up just as the rest of the Champion dived in, too. The bullet – shooting enemy was cut down by Riven, who ran to the Chief's side to make sure he was fine.

Vi smashed in the heads of two more automatons as The cowboy tossed a trio of cards, killing couple more. Chief fired his magnum, emptying the clip and killing the rest. The red armoured woman had her blades stab into fallen enemies, making sure they were truly out of commission.

Chief looked around, making sure there were no enemy reinforcements incoming. Even though his radar detected nothing, he wasn't about to trust it with his life.

The area appeared to be clear.

The Chief looked at the police, who were standing a little ways away. Many of their companions were lying dead around the area, killed by burning bullet and heated blade. Despite this, however, they stared at the Champions with awed expressions. It was probably the first time they had seen people kill so effectively.

Chief looked up, suddenly feeling angry at the sights around him. Wherever he seemed to go, death followed. He knew, without a doubt, this was all his fault. The way the automatons had ignored everyone as soon as they had seen him, their general design, their weaponry – it was like he brought the Human-Covenant war with him.

He shouldn't be here. He was more detrimental than anything else.

He caught a glimpse of a shadow moving on one of the buildings. He reloaded his magnum, staring at the shadowy patch, wondering if it was an enemy, a civilian, or just his adrenalin-pumped imagination.

"What's wrong?" asked Riven, sheathing her blade.

Chief looked down at her. She had several cuts and burn marks across her body. Her clothes were pretty much ruined. Her hair was slightly singed.

And still she was making sure he was okay.

Chief glanced back, seeing that the shadow was gone. He wondered if he should go after it.

He looked back at Riven and met her eyes. When had they gotten so red? It was like liquid fire had been poured into them. They had never been this vivid.

Was it the thrill of the combat?

Or maybe he had just never noticed.

He knew there were a lot of things he never noticed because of his daily life of combat.

"Nothing at all," said the Master Chief finally, holstering his weapons and putting a hand on her shoulder.

* * *

**I really hate this chapter. Don't know why, but... It just doesn't feel right to me. If anyone has anything to say about it, please do. Reviews are greatly appreciated. **

**I guess... See you next update...?**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 – A Whisper in the Storm

"I'm sorry, but you just can't leave," said High Councillor Kolminye.

The Master Chief stood in her office, back rigid, staring straight ahead. He had come here to tell her of his suspicions and to request that he be allowed to leave. It wasn't going so well.

"I would send you home if we could," she continued. "But we really do have no idea where to send you too. Your home doesn't seem to exist – not in this universe, and not in any other."

The Chief did not say a word. He hoped his silence would speak for him.

"We are still trying, making no mistake. It is just a lot harder with recent events." She began to count off her fingers. "Assassins, dead diplomats, a raid on the Institute…"

The Chief looked down at her, his first movement since he entered the office. "Ma'am, it's my fault two of these things happened. My being here is a risk."

The Councillor rolled her eyes. "I fail to see how that is so," she said. "You're working off the assumption that they stole your technology. Ever since the _Dawn _was partially raised from the depths, it has been heavily guarded - no one would be able to get within a mile without being arrested."

"Then they are getting their information from someone on the inside. I know Covenant technology when I see it, Ma'am."

The Councillor sighed. "We are going to have to agree to disagree, then, Spartan. You have my word that we will continue to search for your way back home, but don't expect it to happen quickly. We must first quell this small insurrection. I'm sure that the technology you are so worried about is only some new form of hextech."

The Chief nodded his head, but was less than pleased with her answer. She believed that someone had the ability to invent technology thousands of years ahead of their time, and use it solely to overthrow her regime?

Unlikely.

If only she hadn't killed the first two assassins, then they would have some answers. Or at least be closer to them.

The Councillor turned her attention back to the papers on her desk, and the Chief turned away to leave the room, assuming he was dismissed.

"Master Chief?"

Chief turned back, wondering what she needed to say.

"I would greatly appreciate if you stayed on institute grounds for the next little while."

The Chief stared at the High Councillor, and she stared back. After a moment she gave him a chilly smile, and the Chief nodded in response before leaving the room.

He walked the halls, revelling in the silence. It was late at night, and everyone was sleeping off the events of today. The Summoners had managed to put out the fire eventually, and people had begun to collect bodies and move rubble. Although the fighting had happened in a small section of the city, it was the most popular and populated area, so work crews had begun their repairs immediately. Repairs were estimated to be done within the next few days.

His footsteps sounded odd to his ears. The silence seemed more menacing then it did a minute ago. The shadows pooled in the corners of the rooms, like evil specters slinking in the darkness.

A normal human might have become jumpy, overcome by stress, fear, and anxiety.

Chief wasn't a normal human. He knew he was just shaken by today's revelations – he had brought war to Runeterra, no matter how much the High Councillor tried to deny it. They had taken his technology and turned it against him.

_This was why the UNSC implemented the Cole protocol, _he mused. The deletion of all archived data in case of capture, to avoid events like this. It was what he should have done, the moment he'd awoken aboard the _Dawn. _

He sighed, regretting everything.

He walked on, feeling the need for fresh air. His thoughts did not stop with his steady pace, though. He could only wonder how those automatons – or their maker – had gotten plasma tech. He was sure the _Forward Unto Dawn_'s database would not include such technology. It was possible they had found and reverse-engineered some plasma rifles… but he doubted they had the expertise to do even that. And even then, it would be even harder to find a generator capable of creating plasma and directing it any sort of projectile.

_Maybe I shouldn't have deleted the Dawn's archives, _he thought. _Should have just blown up the entire Dawn._

He had done it before, destroying a ship to delete archived data. The last time he remembered doing it was the prowler above Reach.

Where Linda had been wounded.

Thoughts of all his Spartans began to race to his mind.

Despite ONI's best efforts to condition them and make them loners, they never really succeeded. It was as hard for the Spartans as it was for every other soldier. Nothing ever really prepared you for the pain of losing comrades.

Spartans just hid it better.

He left from a side entrance he had not been through before, finding that it opened into a spectacular park. There was a lake, with moonlight reflecting off the surface, benches made of ivory-coloured wood, tall grass that swayed gently in the night breeze, flowers of assorted shapes and colours. The stars shone brightly in the night sky, much brighter than on any UNSC worlds he had been on – no pollution, no fire, no plasma-caused smoke, and no Covenant battlecruisers to cover it up.

It was peaceful, a concept utterly foreign to the Chief.

He walked towards one of the benches, taking care not to trample and flowers beneath his armoured feet.

As he heard the bench, he realized someone was already sitting there. The person swayed slightly, as if allowing the breeze to carry them away.

To the Chief, it seemed extremely dangerous to be so distracted at night, alone. The Institute was full of assassins, warriors, and political rivals. He was sure they would break League rules to accomplish their goals.

But as the Chief took in his surroundings once more, he understood. It was beautiful, perfect – utterly serene. It was a place that seemed untouched by the rivalries that the League was created upon.

The Chief took a careful step back, deciding he should leave the person to what they were doing. He didn't want to be around anyone right now.

In a mirror image of so many nights ago, the person turned their head sharply, as if sensing Chief's presence.

The person's sharp, feminine features were illuminated by a stray ray of moonlight, some of it bouncing off of her silver hair. Her eyes widened. "Chief?"

The Chief sighed internally. He really had a knack for getting himself into these kinds of situations.

"Sorry, I was unawa-," he began, but cut himself off. He audibly sighed and tried again. "I didn't know it was you. I'm sorry for interrupting."

Riven gave him a hard look, biting her lip subtly, as if making a decision. Eventually, she scooted over to the side and patted the spot next to her.

The Chief took a look around, wondering if he should leave. He didn't exactly want to anymore, though.

"Come here," said Riven. She sounded impatient.

The Chief walked up to the bench and, after a moment of hesitation, sat down on it. It only creaked a tiny amount before settling, accepting his weight.

After another moment of hesitation, the Chief manually released his helmet and put it held it in his hands.

"What's wrong?" she asked, cutting right to the point.

"Nothing," replied the Chief. The breeze felt pleasant against his face. He ran a hand though his hair, noticing that it was longer than regulation cut. He'd need to fix that.

Riven raised an eyebrow and pressed her lips together.

For some reason, the Chief found the action infuriating. People weren't supposed to care how Spartans felt. It wasn't any of her business why he did things.

"Nothing at all," he said sharply through gritted teeth. "Does something have to be wrong to sit here?"

Riven blinked, and her face hardened. She turned away and stared at her feet.

A little belatedly, the Chief realized he said something wrong. He instantly regretted doing so; recently he just found it hard to balance his own emotions, let alone the emptions of others. He hadn't meant to snap like that.

He searched for the right words to say. He knew if it were him, he would prefer the other person to leave him alone. He doubted that would fix the problem, though. He tried to think of what Cortana would say. It would probably have been along the lines of, "Chief, stop acting like an anti-social and see what's wrong with the girl."

"I'm… sorry," said the Chief. "I didn't mean… to snap… like that." His voice sounded hollow in his ears. "Are you… ok?"

Riven didn't look up, but her face became sad. "I just… I'm fine."

Again, if he had been talking to himself, he would not have pressed the issue. Riven was definitely not like him, however, and he knew he needed to press the issue if he wanted to keep her as an ally. And because he still felt bad.

"Are you… sure?" he asked again.

Riven bit her lip. "It's not something I tell people," she admitted. She looked torn between telling him and keeping it to herself.

"Well, I'm not going to be around for very long, so I would be unable tell anyone what you tell me," reasoned the Chief. It made sense to him. He wouldn't be in any position to spill her secrets.

"I come out here for fresh air because I have nightmares about my past. Some nights they're really bad, and I can't seem to get away from them."

The Chief just stared at her. He didn't understand why she was worried about others knowing she had nightmares.

Clearly she understood that, too. "My past wasn't exactly… clean," she clarified.

The Chief nodded slowly, starring out at the lake. He wasn't sure if Riven was done sharing, or if she was just trying to collect her thoughts.

His mental question was answered a minute later. "When I was young… really young, I was conscripted into the Noxian military. That's what they did to orphans… and I proved to be really good at it. Fighting. I was the Noxian poster child. I truly believed in Noxian ideals. 'Only the strong survive'. They put me in charge of Fury Company, and we were nearly unstoppable. Then… the Ionian war started." she sighed. "It wasn't anything like we were told. We didn't fight at all; we just tidied up the mess that the Zaunite war machines left behind. And then…"

She began to shudder, and the Chief put a very reluctant hand on her shoulder to steady her. "And then one day we were surrounded. Most of my company was dead or dying before I could even tell them to form up. Someone started calling for re-enforcements. Then… the bombs started falling. The Zaun war machines launched chemicals into the battle, hitting us and the Ionians. They didn't care who was friend and who was foe. It was a massacre. The chemicals… the things it did to us. Chewed through our armour like tissue paper, liquefying our flesh until it ran beneath our feet in pools, people choking on their own blood. The strong and the weak died together.

"So I ran, fled the battlefield. I was untouched physically, but I'm sure something in me died that day. I broke my sword to sever the ties between me and the monster that Noxus had become, and I began to wander. No matter how far I went, though, it always caught up to me. My enemies, my former allies…" she trailed off.

With a start the Chief realized his hand was still on her shoulder, and he moved it off. He turned to stare out at the water.

"I came here, eventually," she continued, face now in her hands. "I thought I could make a difference, but I couldn't leave my past behind. Nightmares every night would haunt me. I almost left on several occasions. The people here helped me cope, but… you know what the worst part is? Despite everything, I still love Noxus. I still believe in what it stood for. Sometimes that makes me feel like I'm tainted. "

The Chief swallowed a bit. She had just spilled everything to him, he knew. Her life story, bared for him to judge as he saw fit. Maybe she did it intentionally, or maybe it just spilled out.

"You survived," Chief said, staring at the unbroken surface of the lake. Riven lifted her face form her hands to look at him.

"You have purpose. You didn't die when everyone else did, and you did not leave." He tried to search for words that she could understand. He was pretty bad at this whole inspirational talk stuff. "It's your duty, to Noxus. A reckoning will come, one day. Here, you are part of a place where the best unite for peace. You can make a difference here."

She stared at him for a few more seconds, and he knew his attempt at a speech had failed. "That's a nice thought," she said, burying her face in her hands once again. "But untrue. I have no idea how to work with these people. I was trained from so young for war that I've forgotten what peace really is. Someone like me can't make any difference at all."

The Chief swallowed harshly. He knew what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, saying it was forbidden from the highest authority of the Office of Naval Intelligence. A revelation like it could cause anarchy within the UNSC.

But it was also the right thing to say at this moment. And it wasn't like Riven would be able to tell the whole UNSC, anyways, on account of the whole inter-dimensional thing. It couldn't pose that much of a risk.

"Spartan – 117." He said. "I'm the 117 test subject out of 150 chosen for the Spartan II super-solider program. I was taken from my home – which I don't remember at all – to a training base on the planet Reach, because I was genetically superior to others. I was six."

Riven stopped and listened intently. The Master Chief's voice had taken on a tone she had never heard before – soft, low, painful.

"We trained hard. We went through live-fire exercises when I was eight. We got our augmentations when I was twelve. Ceramic bone implants, increased muscle density, electric nervous system… thirty-three of us died. Twelve of us were critically injured. Thirty of us survived."

Riven licked her lips absent-mindedly. That was less than fifty percent of the total subjects that survived. She didn't think she would have volunteered for anything with odds that low.

"We became the best. I was given Cortana, my AI and best friend, and I was put in charge, Master Chief Petty Officer of the Spartans. We were a close-knit group, so we could not socialize well with non-Spartans. It was just us.

"Then the Covenant came, and everything changed. Spartans became the last and only line of defense on many worlds. No matter how many battles we won, though, the Covenant kept advancing. In the end, even the Spartans proved inadequate and the majority of us died, the rest missing. Alone, I held off them off, time and time again. I should have died a dozen times over, but it never happened. Even when I made the ultimate sacrifice for victory, getting myself trapped in the void between worlds, I survived. Even when Cortana died."

He paused, swallowing to ease his aching throat. He was still unused to talking for extended periods of time.

"I have my duty to protect the Human race. That's why I'm still alive. Otherwise, what use does a universe at peace have for a hyper-lethal supersoldier?"

Riven stared at the Chief with impossibly wide eyes. The Chief just stared out at the lake for a little while longer, and then turned his attention to his helmet. He ran his fingers over the various scars, dents and burns that adorned it. Reighlen had offered to patch it up, but the Chief had refused. In a way, each piece of battle-damage reminded him of the cost for victory. One day it would be repaired, but not yet.

Riven didn't say anything, placing a hand on his arm. She nodded to herself, understanding what the Chief was trying to tell her.

The Chief, for his part, kept his attention on the moonlit sky. He remembered a long time ago wondering if there were others looking down at him, in the same way he was looking up at them, before the aliens had shown up. And despite the horrors of the human-Covenant war, the incredible loss of human life, and the extinction of all his Spartans, he still had that same thought as he gazed up.

_Tainted indeed._

The Master Chief and Riven sat there for the rest of the night, until the stars went out.

* * *

_Elsewhere, early morning_

"Sir, I apologize for my failure."

Marin was standing, again, in his employer's office, noting the various new mechanical parts that adorned it.

"Nonsense," his employer said with a flourish of his hand. "Everything went exceedingly well. I have all the data I need to enhance my mechs."

He lightly touched an indent on the small device in front of him, and a blue light shined upwards. A few more button presses later and a picture showed up: a detailed hologram of the new and improved mech.

It looked bulked out: additional armour, sturdier frame, enhanced weapon systems, new targeting systems, improved motors. It looked deadly in all respects.

Marin smiled, but remembered that the man could not see his expression, and so he nodded appreciatively.

That still didn't mean he wasn't annoyed with –or absolved of- his failure. That was twice now. He had been so sure that his trap would work…

The Employer smiled suddenly, and it was enough to interrupt Marin's thoughts. "Soon," he said, turning off the projector and spinning his chair around. "Soon."

* * *

**Alrighty. Finally I get to the chapter in which the Chief opens up...**

**So, technically the Cole Protocol is not the deletion of all archived data, but I took some liberaties to make this easier for myself. Hopefully that isnt oo much of a problem for you guys.**

**Eh... i would ask you guys to review since this is my first story, but asking never actually works, does it?**

**Instead I will say: See you next time on _Dawn_**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Oh, so that's how it is.

There really wasn't anything for the Master Chief to do on league grounds.

He had listened to what the High Councillor had ordered and hadn't left the grounds for the past three days. Unfortunately, that meant there was very little to do. More boring still, the Institute had cut down on daily league games because so many Summoners were busy with recent events, so he couldn't even fight on the rift.

So the Chief spent his time between wandering around and training in the gym so he could try and get back to his peak physical condition. Even though his muscle mass had replenished significantly, it wasn't yet back to what it should be, which he attributed to ice crystals in the muscles.

It was while wandering that the Chief found the stables. It was located just outside the main area of the League, just like the bar, but on the opposite side. He had debated going inside – after all, going into a UNSC vehicle bay was off limits to unauthorized personnel. He had decided to go in anyways, partly because the doors were unlocked and partly because he thought it was best to inspect the grounds more thoroughly.

On the inside it was simply made of wood, some of which were inlaid with small patterns. There was hay on the floor and many stalls lined up on either side, each one filled with horses of all different colours.

That made the Chief interested. Horses were something he had studies, learned about – but never seen. It was hard to see wildlife on planets in their death throes, and none had been brought to Reach by colonists.

He walked between the animals, noting their behaviours when he came close. A few craned their necks out, possibly hoping that he had some treat for them, but they promptly recoiled when their noses came into contact with his active energy shields.

The Chief stood there for a little while, and the horses eventually began to ignore his presence.

The Chief gazed around the room, noting the little details about it. There were several saddles lined up in pegs along the far wall, ranging from plain brown ones to ones inlaid with silver, gold and ebony.

He heard a soft whinny come from his left, and turned to see two white horses extending their necks out at him, unafraid of the energy shielding that had deterred their comrades. They both shared the same stall, and each one was the purest of whites.

Footsteps outside the building.

The Chief turned towards the door, hand by his side, ready to draw his magnum.

Tryndamere walked in with a swagger, but that couldn't hide the hint of nervousness in his step. He held a bag of some sort of grain in one hand, and he began to approach the Chief.

Chief stepped back, giving himself some space should he need to fight.

Fighting didn't seem to be on Tryndamere's mind, however, as he walked up to the horses and opened the bag, allowing them to munch on the food inside.

The two of them stood there in tense silence.

"These horses are ours, Ashe and me. While the Summoners could easily transport us, we like riding more," Tryndamere began. He paused, as if pondering something. "About the other day… I'm… real sorry about that." He coughed into his free hand and a half grimace appeared on his face. "I was drinking a lot, and… ah… yeah."

The Chief didn't say anything, though he did wonder why Tryndamere was having trouble articulating. Could it be from a hangover?

Tryndamere continued on, "I don't usually go bezerk off the battlefield, but sometimes… I don't actually mean it. I didn't mean to hit my wife, or… try… and hit you."

Chief loosened his pose somewhat, relaxing now that he knew Tryndamere wasn't here to pick a fight. He nodded, and that seemed to make the King of the Freljord happier… or relieved.

"Y'know, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his chin. "I think we could be friends."

He stuck out his hand, and the Chief reluctantly accepted it. While he still wasn't happy with the King, and especially didn't want to be his friend, it would be far easier to have him as an ally than as an enemy. It would be nice to limit the number of political rivals he made.

Tryndamere smiled wide. "So…. You wanna go for a drink?"

"No," was the Spartans response.

* * *

The Chief walked away from the stable, heading back into the Institute. He walked through the main entrance, intending to go to the library. There were many books on the history of Valoran there, and the Chief read through them when he could so as to better understand the land he was trapped in. Most interesting was the 'runewars' that were mention, but the books rarely went into detail about it.

Of course, he couldn't actually make it there without being stopped by someone else.

It was the Champion from the other day, the one wearing the ornate, delicate red armour which seemed to the Chief far too fragile to take a direct hit.

"Master Chief?" The woman asked, and the Chief reluctantly nodded. No matter how much he tried not to socialize, it seemed to happen anyways.

The woman seemed aloof, a little haughty even; but it didn't fit her young features.

"I wanted to thank you for your assistance the other day. You are quite the combatant."

"It's my duty," Chief responded.

The woman made no effort to move. She gazed over the Spartan who, despite being two steps lower than her, matched her height.

"How are you settling in?" she asked, clearly attempting to make some small talk.

The Chief shrugged, the extent of his small-talk know-how.

Irelia give a small smile and nodded. "It was hard for me to get used to the place too. Some of us still haven't. Although, I do have to say Riven's been perkier in the last couple days than she's ever been in this place." She gave the Chief a knowing look.

"Must have had a good game," he said with a shrug.

Irelia shook her head. She stopped talking for a minute, and the Chief assumed that was his queue to leave.

"You really should visit Ionia, my home country, some time," The woman continued, forcing the Chief to stay a bit longer. "It is a beautiful place, and I believe you would find insight there."

The Chief wondered what she meant by 'insight'. It could be a turn of phrase, or It could mean something more. Chief mentally scoffed at himself right after thinking that. All this magic stuff was really making him second-guess things now. He wasn't so sure that was a good thing for him.

"I'd rather stay on League grounds," the Spartan said. "In case I'm needed." He didn't bother elaborating on the fact that he wanted to be as close as possible when – if – they found him a way back home.

Irelia shrugged instead this time. "Consider it, please. Anyways, I shall take my leave now, since I see you are impatient to get moving again."

The Chief watched her go, wondering if it was really that obvious that he wanted to get moving. As soon as she cleared the steps, the Chief resumed his climb.

* * *

He spent part of the day in the library, as were his intentions, but left a bit early. He went to the cafeteria, grabbed some food, and retreated back to his room.

As he walked down the hall, he noticed the large box in front of his door. It was completely plain except for the _caution _labeled across the front.

The Chief opened the door to his room and carefully pushed the box inside. He set his food down on the counter, and knelt beside the box.

He scanned the container with his helmet, but failed to pick up any known bomb residues. It didn't have any thermal emissions, either, but that didn't mean something potentially dangerous could be inside.

So he waited.

He stared at the box until he finished eating with his armour on. He set his plate down, and began to open the box.

The box was sturdy, sealed well enough to deter most thieves. But for a Spartan, it was as easy as tugging on the lid and watching all the screws pop off.

The contents made him smile.

It was a weapons shipment, but of the best kind: power weapons.

There were a couple of DMRs, but there was also a rocket launcher, a sniper rifle, and two shotguns. There was ammo stacked on the bottom, and loose shotgun shells rolled around.

The Master Chief grabbed one of the shotguns, inserted a shell, and pumped it, hearing the satisfying click as the round was chambered.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

The stench of blood was thick in the air.

Marin sat there, supervising the professors at each of their surgical tables. On each one lay a person, opened up in some matter.

Marin had been against this part – there were no need for enhanced humans when they had automatons. That eliminated the point of having a mechanized army. Of course, his opinion didn't really matter, and he had been assured no civilians had been chosen for the operation.

Really, he couldn't do anything except smile and nod. His contract parameters did not let him.

He checked the charge on his rifle, having learned from before that the power tended to drain out while idle.

95%

He was there to supervise, and in case something went wrong with one of the test subjects, eliminate them.

A new wave of scientists entered the room, each carrying a blue crystal orb. They lined up in front of each of the tables, and began to do something he did not want to see.

At the back of the room the group of sorcerers- which had seemed so out of place before – began to chant. Magic began to swirl around the tables in tangible lines, wrapping themselves around the patients.

The purple hextech arms magically suspended above the patients descended on a magic word from their operators.

94%

The screaming began again.

* * *

**Sorry for the short chapter. My history teacher decided to drop an essay on me yesterday due monday, and this chapter was only half-finished at the time, so I rushed it out. **

**Anyways... the next update will probably also include that skill set I've been working on for the Chief. Dunno how that'll turn out.**

**As always, review (If asking actually works) and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Hopefully I'll see you next time...?**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 – The Gun Show

* * *

_Two weeks after the raid on the institute_

**THE MASTER CHIEF HAS SLAIN RYZE**

The announcers accented voice reverberated across the fields of justice. The Master Chief whom she had just mentioned was taking cover in a bush just by the middle lane, right beside the rapidly fading body of the Ryze he had just killed.

Another person slide into the bush beside him, holding his blade low by his side.

"You gotta save some kills for us too, you know," Yasuo said, a playful smile on his face.

"Tell that to my Summoner," Chief replied, reloading his assault rifle slowly. He gazed across the lane, seeing a large crocodilian man step out of the opposite bush, just as a matins-like creature appeared from the ruins of the Chief's mid lane tower.

"How 'bout I take 'Zix and you take care of Renekton?" Yasuo asked, eyeing the route he would take.

The Chief grunted his assent. It really didn't matter to him what enemy he fought, so long as his team won in the end.

Yasuo charged out of the bush, deciding to abandon any form of tactical planning. The Chief was forced to charge out also, lest his adversary turn Yasuo's fight into a 2v1.

Renekton roared as he saw the Spartan run towards him, and dashed forwards to meet him.

The Chief rolled to the left, igniting a plasma grenade and sticking it to Renekton's belly. The Chief then dove away as the grenade detonated.

Unfortunate for the Chief, Renekton was tanky enough to shrug off the worst of the blast and kept on coming. He fired his rifle in full auto, each shot tearing chunks of blue light out of Renekton's body, but with other visible effect.

The Butcher swung his blade around, the blow hitting the Chief and severely damaging his shields. It then followed up with two more slashes, but they were clumsy and easy to avoid.

The Chief drew his magnum with his off hand and fired it as best he could into Renekton's face, but the crocodile seemed to relish the pain more than anything else. Renekton lashed out again, hitting the Chief and bringing down his shields completely.

A red line appeared behind the Butcher, and he followed it to its target: Yasuo.

The Chief glanced in the direction it was coming from, but all he could see in the distance was a purple top hat.

Renekton came at him again, swinging his blade, but this time the Chief grabbed onto it and let it carry him around the massive reptile's body. He landed on the other side of the beast, and it looked around in confusion for a few seconds – all the opportunity the Spartan needed.

He dropped his rifle and magnum and brought out the 99-S5 anti-materiel sniper rifle that he had been carrying on his back. He got into his stance, quickly taking aim at the target that was just out of his line of sight. He aimed the rifle scope just above where he assumed the target's head was, allowing for bullet drop.

He fired once, the round tearing through the air and causing a massive booming noise. Due to its proximity to Renekton, it caused the beast to roar in pain – or anger.

But the Spartan didn't just fire once. The rifle carried four of the 57 calibre rounds, and he fired all of them, his prodigious strength allowing him to keep the rifle level. Even so, it rocked his body back. While he considered it was overkill to empty the clip, it was better to be safe than sorry.

The red line faded just as the Announcer called out another of his kills.

**THE MASTER CHIEF HAS SLAIN CAITLYN.**

The Chief reloaded just as a large shadow crossed over him. He spun around, sniper aimed at the center of the creatures mass, but the glowing blade swung faster and ripped into his body, rooting him to the spot. The beast then swung the blade around in and unstoppable arc, and everything went black.

**RENEKTON HAS SLAIN THE MASTER CHIEF**.

* * *

"It was a good game," Rengar growled, rolling his shoulders around to loosen the muscles.

The team was still on the summoning platform, the game having just ended. It was a close one, but in the end the Chief's team lost it. The Chief found that he really didn't care all that much about the loss. It had been fun, and winning to many times would just bring attention to him. He really wanted to limit the amount of spotlight time he had in this place.

"Yeah," Yasuo chimed in, also stretching out his muscles. Apparently the whole team's muscles were sore after so long a game. "Still wanted to win, though."

Everybody stood in silence for a moment.

"So…" Yasuo began, trying to break the silence. "Does anyone want to go eat something?"

"The hunt awaits," Rengar said, and began to leave. The other two champions – Malphite and Twitch – also declined, walking the opposite way.

"Eh…" Yasuo mumbled. "Guess it's just you and me, then, big guy."

"No," the Chief said, also turning away to leave. He wanted to get back to the training room to train.

"Whaaa? No way. I 'aint getting left alone." Yasuo grabbed the Spartan by the arm comically and began to pull him – or attempt to – to the cafeteria.

The Chief could have just shrugged and shaken him off with ease, but decided against it. It's not like his other 'business' was more pressing.

* * *

"And so I said, 'no, _you're _dead!" Yasuo began to laugh loudly, causing some of the other champions – some of which clearly had hangovers – to turn their heads towards the pair in annoyance.

The Chief just tilted his head, confused at why the line was funny.

Yasuo laughed for a little bit more than wiped a tear from his eye. "Maybe you had to be there… Anyways, moral of the story is: don't touch the fruit smoothies."

Chief blinked. "That… had no relevance to the story. At all."

Yasuo shrugged, draining the last bit of his unknown alcoholic beverage.. "Just checkin' if you were listening."

The Chief shook his head, unamused. Now that he was actually here, spending time with Yasuo, he was sure his other 'business' was more important.

"I guess I'm just sayin' that is sucks wandering around alone. But I guess you already know that, seeing as how you're a dimensional castaway," said the wanderer.

The Chief stared at Yasuo, then looked out the window they were sitting beside. While he had come to terms with his separation from the United Nations Space Command, he still wasn't comfortable with it. It was odd to think about what might be going on on the other side. Was humanity winning, or had they won? Had they already been eliminated by the Covenant? Had their sacrifice even made a difference?

It was something he didn't know, and that didn't settle well with him.

"So…" Yasuo's voice broke the Chief's thoughts. "Got any good stories?"

The Chief looked back at him and said, "no."

"C'mon. You're a space warrior from… space. How can you NOT have good stories?"

"…No?"

Yasuo raised a single eyebrow and stared at the Chief hard.

The Chief sighed. "There was one time…"

And so the Chief told the story of the assault on Cairo station. Chief wasn't the best story teller, so the story was more technical than riveting, but it was still interesting for the Wanderer. The Chief had to skip over some parts that revealed to much information, and he had to explain a lot of the things involved in the attack. It had been especially hard describing a Covenant destroyer. Of course, despite the Chief downplaying the part with the bomb, it still had Yasuo whistling. Even the Chief had to admit to himself that it was kind of epic.

Kind of.

As soon as he finished the story he went silent. He had tried to make it as brief as possible, but it still took quite a while.

Yasuo shook his head. "That was a hell of a story, Chief. Kinda makes me want to have been there just to see their faces."

"It _was _a good story," said a voice.

The woman stepped into view, her just being out of visible range of the pair. That didn't mean the Spartan hadn't detected her before. He just knew he wouldn't have been able to take action even if he wanted to, so he had just let her be.

"Oh, Ahri," Yasuo said, looking somewhat content. "How long've you been here?"

The fox woman shrugged playfully.

"So… I was wondering if you two boys wanted to take a girl out for a day on the town. Especially you, space warrior." Ahri finished her sentence with a wink and a bite of the lip.

Yasuo nodded eagerly and the Chief flat out said no.

The Ronin stared at the Spartan. "What? You don't wanna go?"

The Chief shook his head. He was tolerant of all the people here, but mainly because the Institute demanded it was so. He still viewed everyone as a threat, but none more so than the abhumans and non-humans. The Human-Covenant war hadn't made it easy for him to trust things that didn't look perfectly human.

Ahri gave a sad pout as the Chief stood up. Yasuo just shook his head.

The Chief passed his unopened bottle to the pair and left the room.

* * *

The Chief knew something was wrong the instant he walked into his room.

Nothing looked different, and his motion sensor detected nothing. Even the trained eye would have found nothing out of place. The Chief's eye, however, was several leagues beyond 'trained'. He noted instantly the slight trail of dust on the floor, the ever so slight smear on the desk, the M6B magazine that was a centimeter out of position.

He snapped up his magnum to the left, where the unknown trespasser was sitting.

She looked faintly surprised, because to her the Chief had walked in and instantly pointed a deadly weapon in her direction. Even for someone exceptionally gifted that shouldn't be possible.

The Chief didn't fire. He knew he couldn't until she attacked first. So he just stood there, weapon aimed.

The woman stood up, and raised her arms away from her body. "No need to be so fast," she said with a smirk.

The Chief did not lower the weapon. He had made a point to study each person most likely of causing harm, and this was one of them. Lowering his guard could prove potentially fatal – even though he was sure he could hold his own.

"Sinister Blade," he said. He then tilted his head in question.

Katarina shrugged, the motion sending her various daggers rippling. "I was just… looking around." She finished with a sly smile.

The Chief didn't move for a full minute. He then lowered the gun, but left it upholstered. He jerked his thumb towards the door and said, "out."

While some may have taken more drastic action against and intruder, especially an assassin, the Chief didn't want to. It would cause a whole host of problems the Chief was more than eager to avoid.

The Noxian assassin was still smiling as she moved towards the door. Just before she could touch it, however, the Chief's hand snapped out and grabbed her arm.

She turned around, eyes flashing. Her other had reached for a dagger, but the Chief's magnum was already at her head, unwavering.

She stared at him. "_No one touches me,_" she growled out.

"No one steals from me," the Chief responded with. He let her go and moved away, his had clutching the leaf of paper she had tried to take away. A quick glance at it confirmed it was a detailed diagram of his other magnum.

The woman laughed this time, a real, full throated laugh of genuine amusement. The Chief wasn't so sure why she did so, but he could only speculate that it was because he had managed to see through her far easier than she expected.

Or maybe power armour was just funny.

Katarina disappeared in a flash of light, and the Master Chief was left aiming his pistol at thin air.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

Marin sat on the metal walkway that hung high above the room, his feet dangling into the empty space below him.

Down on the floor of the room were the massive assemblies that his employer had given him permission to view.

Apparently he was in higher graces, now.

The magic in the room was palpable. It seemed as solid as the walls or the ceiling or the metal grating of the floor. Marin could only imagine the amount of sorcery being put into the sheets of metal below.

From what he could tell, each sheet of the machine's hull was being magically blessed before being sealed to the superstructure of the thing. In its center was a massive crystal, pulsing red like a heart.

Marin had seen energy crystals before, and these ones did not seem normal at all.

Stranger still, he was sure he had seen runes being attacked to the massive rotary weapon of the machine. He had believed that all runes had been confiscated or destroyed by the Institute of War – which begged the question of how they were here.

A massive booming noise shook him out of his thoughts.

Below him one of the farther vehicles – the ones closer to being finished –was moving. One of its heavily armoured legs rose up and down again, slightly moving it forwards and causing the noise to repeat itself.

Even though Marin was high up above the room, the large size of the thing was still evident.

He tried to imagine a way that soldiers with bows and spears would fight and kill something of this magnitude.

He failed.

* * *

**Right after I hand in my History essay I get a calculus essay. I didn't even know they had those... so as a result, another short chapter. I hate making excuses, but it seems to be sad face week for me.**

**Hopefully the skillset makes up for it, and I'll try and make the next chapter longer.**

**Um... Review if you guys feel like it, and I hope you enjoyed the relatively short chapter.**

**C ya.**


	17. Stats

**RIGHT. So here's that skill set I've been working on for some undetermined amount of time. **

**I imagine the Chief as close range adc something like lucian, vayne or ugot, but with with abilities that do damage instead of provide utility.**

**so here we go. I have some notes attached to each ability to help explain what I envisioned. **

* * *

**John-117**

**The Master Chief**

**Statistics**

**Health:** 400 (+80)

**Health regen:**5.2(+0.5)

**Mana:**200(+50)

**Mana Regen:**6(+0.8)

**Range:**505

**Attack Damage:**50(+2.85)

**Attack Seed:**0.648 (+3%)

**Armour:**20(+3.5)

**Magic rs:**30

**Movement Speed:**340

**PASSIVE -** Energy Shielding: Grants a shield which absorbs 40/80/120 + 50% of AD. MAX: 500 refreshes when out of combat for 10 seconds.

**Q-:** Magnum Salvo: RANGE-600 COST- 60/65/70/75/80 COOLDOWN - 10/9/8/7/6

**ACTIVE -** The Master Chief empties his Magnums magazine in a 25 degree cone, filling the area with a hail of bullets, dealing damage to all enemies in the area. Enemies within half range of the Chief (300) will take 50% additional damage.

PHYSICAL DAMAGE - 40/70/90/100/120 (+ 75% of bonus AD)(+50% of bonus AP)

**(Like Darius Q, damage applies instantly, but the animation takes longer.)**

**W-:** Shield Burst: RANGE-550 COST-none COOLDOWN-25/23/21/19/17

**ACTIVE -** The Master Chief manually detonates his Energy Shielding, dealing damage to nearby enemies and slowing them, while granting the Chief a temporary speed boost. The Shields systems then take longer than usual to recharge.

MAGIC DAMAGE - Equal to the amount of the Chief's current shield. (+25% of bonus AP)

SPEED SLOW - 20%/25%/30%/35%/40%

MOVEMENT SPEED GAIN - 15%/20%/25%/30%/35%

Shields temporarily take 5 seconds longer to recharge after using this ability

**(I thought it would be cool if the Chief could do a massive static burst with his shields, since Cortana did it in one of the novels to dislodge a flood parasite. I envision it would be used as an escape mechanism or a way to duel enemy adc's.)**

**E-:** Plasma Grenade: RANGE-625 COST-50/55/60/65/70 COOLDOWN-10/9.5/9/8.5/8 seconds PROJECTILE SPEED-1450

**ACTIVE-** The Master Chief throws a plasma grenade to the target location, detonating in a 140-radius area after 0.75 seconds. If the center of the target area is an enemy champion, the grenade will instead stick to them, following them for 0.75 seconds before detonating. The stuck unit will take 25% additional damage, but the grenade will not detonate in a radius.

PHYSICAL DAMAGE - 50/100/150/200/250 (+65% of bonus AD)(+50% of bonus AP)

**(Only sticks to targets it hits dead on. I took off the blast radius from when it sticks because then it would just be Zilean bomb.)**

**R-:** Spartan Lazer: RANGE-1100 COST-100 Cooldown-90/70/60 PROJECTILE SPEED-Instant

**ACTIVE-** The Chief charges up the lazer for 0.5 seconds, firing in a straight line, damaging the first enemy champion it hits and exploding in a 250 radius, rooting all targets hit. Enemies caught in the blast radius will take 50% damage. If it does not hit an enemy, it will explode upon reaching the end of its path.

PHYSICAL DAMAGE - 150/200/250 (+50% of bonus AD)(+50% of Bonus AP)

ADDITIONAL DAMAGE - Deals 5%/6.5%/8% of the targets max health over 3 seconds

ROOT DURATION - .50/.75/1 second(s)

**(Same width as Ezreal Q)**

**(Fires like Lux lazer, including the charge-up time and the little red line. However, while Charging up, the Chief can move around the skillshot/red line in the same way as Vel'Koz ult. However, he has a 25% reduced turn rate. I gave it a root because i Imagined it would be more for catching people and forcing fights than to kill. There's too many ultimate executions on ADC's in League. and the burn damage... Well, its a lazer. )**

* * *

**Okay, tell me what you guys think. I've never done this before, so try and... be nice? I dunno, just say what you guys feel about this. **


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 - Field Expedient

"Wait, do you smell that?"

Jayce stood in the idle of the hallway, sniffing, with the Master Chief by his side.

The Chief had been going through his day the usual way: training with minimal contact with other living beings, but Jayce had decided to spend some time with him and was currently dragging him all around the League area.

The Defender turned around, still waiting for a response.

The Chief shrugged, saying "Yes." In truth, he had smelled something being baked a long time ago, but hadn't mentioned it as it wasn't all that relevant.

Jayce just stood there, sniffing. "This way!" he declared in a heroic voice, and began to march down the hallway with his arms swinging by his side like he was at some great triumph.

The Chief just followed him with an internal sigh, confused at how these sorts of things always happened to him. It seemed like more he tried to ignore people, the more people tried to talk to him.

The hallways were fairly busy at this time of day. Champion, aides and even a few robed Summoners were traversing them to get to the places they wanted to be.

All in all, there were way too many people here for the Chief. Every one of them could be a potential hostile, and he was without his armour. He was still sure he could beat anyone that came at him, but it wasn't a very reassuring feeling.

Jayce stopped in front of a door, sniffing. "Here!" he declared, and rapped on the door three times.

The door itself was a plain red colour, chipping in some places and dented in others. There was a picture of… what looked like a winged horse on it, but it was faded and hard to make out.

The door opened, revealing a man wearing a steel helmet and an apron.

"Pantheon!" Jayce cried out quickly pushed passed him into the room.

Pantheon just stood there, but it was impossible to read his face due to his helmet.

"…Okay." Pantheon looked to the Chief, who stood just a little away from the door. "Why don't you come in too? We can all bake together!"

The Chief blinked, taking in the helmet-and-apron combo. "You…bake?"

Pantheon nodded eagerly. "I've always wanted to be a baker!"

The Chief stared for a few seconds, then allowed himself to be led inside by the rakkorian.

The room smelled very strongly of flour. Jayce was already inside the small kitchen area, munching on something.

"You k'now, panth, these 'r 'eally good," he said, his mouth full of whatever he was eating.

"I am very glad you like them!" Panthon exclaimed, grabbing a massive bag of flour from under the table and carrying it to the kitchen counter, where large bowl was waiting.

The Chief stood there, watching Pantheon attempt to bake while Jayce ate all of the finished goods.

While the food did indeed smell good, the Chief wasn't sure how Pantheon managed to do that. The way he baked was… odd, to say the least. While the Chief wasn't an expert baker – in fact, he didn't know the first thing about baking – he was fairly certain you didn't put whole eggs into a mountain of flour and mix it together with a bloody spear tip.

The Artisan of… bakery turned his head to look at the Chief. "Hey, come over and you can help roll the dough into shapes!"

The Chief shook his head, slowly edging towards the door.

Panthon sucked under the counter as he looked for something, providing the Chief with the perfect opportunity.

"We have star shaped cookie-cutters, and present shaped ones! Which one do you wa…"

Pantheon looked around the room, failing to see the Spartan. "Chief? Hey, where'd you go?"

Jayce shrugged, another three cookies in his hand. "More for me."

* * *

The Chief walked away from Pantheon's room, trying to brush the accumulated flour out of his shirt.

"…Why do you smell like a bakery?"

The Chief froze. "There was an… incident with a bag of flour," he began, turning around.

Riven stood just behind him, finger on her lip in a pensive pose.

"You should probably get out of those clothes," she said. "Do you have anything else to wear?"

Chief nodded. "My armour," he said.

Riven sighed. "You can't alwa- fine, keep those on." She walked past the Chief. "Come on."

The Chief didn't move. "Where?"

Riven stopped walking. "The bar. We can watch League matches on the big television they have."

The Chief frowned. "Watch…League matches?"

* * *

"Wow, what scrubs," Gragas said.

The Chief sat at the bar beside Riven, both of them staring at the large screen above them. The purple team was currently scattered around the jungle, while the blue side was pushing hard in a speartip towards purple's blue.

"They don't seem to know what they're doing," Riven said. She munched on a few of the fried something-or-others that she had purchased. Most of the other people in the bar murmured their agreement, their eyes fixated on the screen.

The Chief said, "If Malzahar stay out of position like that, the rest of his team is going to leave him behind and he will be caught out."

The earned mostly grunts from the patrons that could hear him.

"Garen's fed, he can fight off 'nyone that catches Malz out," a Summoners aide said.

Chief shook his head. "He can't fight them off if he's locked down."

That earned a snort from the Summoners aide.

The Chief shook his head again and, not twenty seconds later, Malz gets caught out by blue team. Garen rushed to save him but is rooted down by Morgana and both blue team members are killed by purple.

Everybody in the bar gasped aloud. The Chief didn't do anything, content with the knowledge that he was correct. At least all that time in cryo hadn't messed up his ability to read tactical situations.

"…I should have placed that bet," Riven cursed. She shook her head in apparent sadness.

The Chief shrugged.

"Ah well," Riven said. She grabbed a fistful of her fired snack and made to get up. "Let's go. I don't really want to watch the rest."

The Master Chief got up a little more hesitantly. "Where?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I'm sure we can find something to do around here."

* * *

Marin wasn't too sure how much quiet constituted ominous silence, but he was sure the camp right now would be eligible for the latter.

He had followed his target to this Demacian camp, the base of his operations.

He stalked through the tents, silent as a shadow. If anyone saw him at that moment, they would be hard pressed to separate him from the darkness that clung to him.

The commander's tent was dark; the person inside having fallen asleep during the hours Marin had watched the camp from afar.

Marin glanced around, confirming that he hadn't been followed. He slipped inside the tent with barely a whisper.

Marin searched the room with his eyes: the Commander was in his bed. He padded over to it, his energy rifle held at the ready.

Marin froze. It was just a moment, more of a feeling than anything else that made Marin dodge back as the blade lashed out from the bed.

The Commander rose up from his hiding place, fully armed armoured. The Demacian roared a challenge and ran at Marin with his blade held low, ready to stab.

Marin was unable to bring his rifle to bear at such confined quarters, so all he could do was doge back again, and once more as the Demacian swung.

The Commander roared again, and Marin was forced to back out of the tent.

A mistake, the first Marin had committed in a while.

The Demacian soldiers which should have been groggy with sleep were all armoured and armed, and were arrayed in a circle around the tent.

Marin snickered as he stared at the spear-wielding soldiers. It would be impossible to fight a ring of polearms.

He had actually been tricked. The novelty of such a thing turned his snicker into an all-out laughing fit. He actually had to drop his rifle to hold his side because he was laughing so hard.

"Laugh while you can," the Commander said. "You'll be dead in a few moments."

Marin's breath came in ragged gasps. If only his face wasn't covered, then he could wipe away the tears fogging up his vision. Instead of wiping his face, he gripped his falchion out of its leg sheath and raised it.

The Demacian commander shook his head. "Such is the fate of all assassin scum, to be cut down like dogs."

Marin dropped the blade and shook his head. "I don't think so."

The Demacian soldiers all took a step forward, closing the ring of spears. The Demacian commander smiled. "Face it, you have been outsmarted. You have failed."

Marin cocked his head. "Have I?"

It was then that the charges Marin had seeded across the camp detonated.

They went off in stages, each one placed to cause maximum destruction. The soldiers around Marin began to scatter as the charges sent spirals of eldritch flame into them, burning their armour right of and sloughing the flesh from their bones.

The sky lit up, and Marin revelled in the destruction. He had always personally hated subtle missions; he preferred the rush of combat, the thrill of a charge, the warmth of blood and the satisfaction of enemies dropping in droves.

A roar. The Commander and his remaining soldiers hurled themselves at Marin.

Marin brought his foot down on the fallen falchion, the force bringing it up into the air. Marin snapped his foot back out and lashed out at the still rising blade, sending it point first into the face of the Demacian commander.

The momentum of the other charging soldiers died down as they saw their leader fall. Marin allowed himself to feel a moment of satisfaction at the theater of the kill; thought hadn't needed to make it so theatrical, it had been a good way to refresh his skills. And it had been fun.

The soldiers looked at each other uncertainly. Marin scooped up his fallen rifle and began to snap shots off, each quick beam of light cracking through the air and leaving a headless corpse behind it.

Soon, there was no one left alive on the field. Whoever Marin hadn't slain was killed by the raging inferno around him.

Marin sighed as he wrenched his blade out of the Commander.

"Bastard. Now I'm going to have to clean my blade again."

* * *

"_I saw it, sir, I swear I did. It came in the night, and we were all prepared for it… but it didn't matter in the end. It wasn't human, sir, I'm sure of it. The way it killed… The only thing I don't understand, sirs, is why Noxus would consort with Daemons." – Keryan Smalas, Seargent, 104 battalion, only surviving member of the attack on the camp of Commander Irius 'Peacemaker" Varrak_

* * *

**Geez... Had to stay awake all of last night to finish the calculus essay and write this chapter. The next one will be longer, I promise. I just didn't want to not upload, and I thought a small chapter would be better than no chapter.**

**Anyways, the first little bit of this chapter was just for comic relief, like it or hate it, it was meant to be stupid. I just couldn't write a serious chapter at 3 in the morning.**

**So... yeah. See you guys next time, unless you find something better to read.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 18 – Shining Armour

Malphite was a very strong champion. He was considered one of the strongest of them, and rightly so. He is a creature of stone, a being that does not feel exhaustion or strain. It can exert its strength for a long time, forever if need be, and it will never give up until its opponent is crushed to a dust finer than that which coats its own stony exterior.

But despite all that, it isn't enough to stop a Spartan II at full strength. Not even close.

The Master Chief held Malphite's rock hard fist in his hands, and pushed. Malphite slid back a step back, unable to do anything as the Spartan pushed.

Malphite never showed any strain, but it was trying as hard as it could to crush something that was just as strong as it was. Malphite gave a roar and slammed the ground with its other hand, trying to use the shockwave to offset the Chief.

That was a mistake.

The Chief used the Shards momentary lapse of concentration to pull forward on the being, making it stumble another step, but forward this time. The Chief then spun, twisting the rocky joint in a way that it should not be twisted.

Rock spiralled off of Malphite, its arm shattered at the elbow. The beast roared in what the Chief assumed was pain, before crumbling in a ring of blue light.

**THE MASTER CHIEF HAS SLAIN MALPHITE.**

The Chief stood there for a moment, panting. His muscles burned, the effort of overpowering the stone monster having took a lot of effort.

A swish.

The Chief spun around, picking up his fallen DMR just as the Champion rustling the bushed to his left reveal themselves.

"Ah… Could you not aim that at me, space warrior?"

The Chief somewhat reluctantly lowered the DMR as Ahri fully made her presence known.

"So…," she began. "Shall we push the lane?"

The Chief shook his head. "Shop. Need to get an Infinity Edge."

_Another one? _That was the Chief's Summoner, a female he hadn't fought alongside before.

_Teleport me back, please._

_It would probably best if you pushed lane, so that we can get top while they get bot._

The Chief shook his head again, this time with a bit of exasperation. He began to walk down the lane, ignoring Ahri fully as he followed the minions.

Ahri skipped after him. The Chief allowed her to kill the enemy minions, knowing she needed the extra currency more than he did.

"Isn't the rift fun?" Ahri said a little bit playfully, bouncing an orb of power from hand to hand.

The Chief didn't immediately respond. When he did, it was as critically as he judged everything around him. "These are war games without wars."

Ahri tilted her head a little too far back. "Does the rift need to make sense?"

The Chief sighed internally. He had answered in the hope that the conversation would be ended, not continued. "There isn't any point to keep dangerous warriors on edge all the time," he reasoned, "without good reason."

Ahri giggled, a giggle that seemed to at once condemn his words and laud them. "You think too much," she said.

The Chief didn't react or say anything. He just focused on pushing out the lane, grabbing a turret before the enemy team reacted.

Eventually the minions pushed right up to the enemy's second-tier tower, and the two champions began to attack it. Chunks of stone began to fall off of it, gradually lowering the tower's overall health.

The Chief stopped firing his DMR, the final shot sounding louder than the others he had fired. He looked around critically. He could tell something was wrong, but he just didn't know what. His motion sensor detected enemies, but there were many pings on it… far more than would account for the enemy team.

Something was invisible.

He looked to Ahri, who was obliviously hitting the turret still. He debated telling her to move, but decided against it. It would be better to grab a turret and a kill rather than both of them secure a single kill. Not to mention the fact that he didn't trust her enough in a fight.

He began to move, slowly searching, trying to pinpoint the location of the enemy. He moved further and further away from his companion, who was still taking the turret.

Something hit the Chief just as he fired off a shot at his attacker. The both projectiles impacted, the Spartans causing a spray of blood from the target and the targets' rooting the Chief down to the spot.

The Chief grimaced as he fought against the binding ropes around him. Rengar roared and leaped over him, bounding over to Ahri.

The Chief struggled, the ropes slowly becoming looser. He could hear the sounds of battle behind him, and it didn't sound too good.

The ropes snapped as they finally wore off. The Chief wasted no time in powering forward for the lion.

He fired him marksman rifle with every step, every shot finding its mark despite him running. He slammed into the beast as soon as he was within range, knocking it off the kitsune and propelling it forwards.

Rengar didn't go down without a fight, though. It grabbed him as it was knocked about, carrying the Chief with it. They ended up in a pile, fighting each other at extreme close range.

This was where the hunter had the advantage. Despite the Spartan being the stronger of the two and being protected by energy shielding and power armour, the Lion had the advantage of claws, teeth, close-combat weapons, and having two more completed rune-items over the Chief.

Rengar began to slash at the Chief in wild abandon, each hit draining the shield. The Chief retaliated by hitting back, punching the beast in what he assumed were its most vulnerable areas.

Rengar merely grunted whenever a fist connected, but still slashed. The Chief knew he wouldn't last long with Rengar bearing its full weight down on him, so he tensed his muscles and pushed up, tossing the lion aside.

The Chief used the brief lull in the fighting to reach for his secondary firearm, hoping to land a quick headshot and end the fight.

Rengar was faster this time, though. It pounced right back on the Chief, this time propelling its dagger down in a savage arc that broke through the Chief's shields and into his body.

The Chief didn't gasp from the pain, however much it hurt him. He had a bit of life left in him so he got ready to redouble his efforts, knowing he wouldn't last ten more seconds like this.

Rengar suddenly arched its back and turned away, the Chief forgotten.

The Chief quickly reached around and grabbed his secondary firearm, pumping it once to make sure a shell was in the chamber, and fired straight into the beast's head.

**THE MASTER CHIEF HAS SLAIN RENGAR**

The Chief didn't get up immediately. His helmet was still making warning sounds, for the shields had yet to recharge.

A shadow crossed over him as Ahri moved next to him.

"Thanks," the Spartan said gruffly, knowing it had been her charm spell that had saved his life.

Ahri tilted her head and shrugged, smiling.

* * *

The Chief walked through the hallways of the institute alone. It was early afternoon, and most people were about doing their business. The Chief himself also had business to attend to: his new security system.

Over the last few days he had been developing a system in conjunction with Reighlen that would secure his room. Right now the system was still in its alpha stages, but even so it would alert him with a ping when anyone stepped into his room. He still wanted to finish it as fast as he could, though.

His motion sensor pinged, indicating someone behind him.

He turned around to see a small blonde girl, wearing a blue jump suit and some light silver armour pieces.

"I'm Lux!" She said cheerfully, a big smile on her face.

The Chief didn't say anything, the appearance of this girl catching him a bit off guard. He had been approached by adults and abhumans and aliens and assassins, but a child? That was different.

"Mind if I follow you?"

The Chief blinked at that question. He wasn't so good with social interactions, but even that question seemed off with him. Of course, he didn't give it much thought. He already knew what his answer would be.

"Don't," he said, and turned to walk away.

She followed him, or so his motion sensor told him. He realized he could barely hear her footsteps.

"So… Why do you wear that armour all the time?" she asked.

The Chief still didn't answer, although he took note of the words 'all the time.' Clearly she had been watching him for a bit.

Or maybe not. It wasn't exactly uncommon knowledge that he wore his armour the majority of the time.

"It's rather large. Is that because of all the hextech inside? Or is it something else, like those mechanical pistons?"

The Chief rounded a corner, and the girl – lux – followed. He stayed silent, unsure of what she wanted and annoyed that she wouldn't leave.

The girl made a move to touch him, then. Her hand crept forwards – or it appeared so to him, at least – and he let her. Normally he wouldn't let anyone get close him – his training had ingrained that trait into him – but he figured she wouldn't follow him around anymore if she hurt herself on his still active energy shielding.

"OW!" she cried, curling her shocked fingers into her hand.

The Spartan didn't slow down, and neither did Lux. She continued to follow him, despite the recent shock.

"Interesting," she said. "The only artificial shielding I've seen is very temporary, and usually is a result of hextech power build-up… is it inbuilt to your armour? What's the power source?"

Silence again.

"How does it stay so quiet, though? Crystals are usually rather noisy and bothersome, you know? like, there was this one time that Ezreal gave me a crystal necklace and it was, like, so nice and beautiful but it was soo annoying becau-"

The Chief grunted and rounded on her. Lux was forced to suddenly stop to avoid running into his shields.

"Stop spying on me," the Chief said abruptly.

Lux blinked, and her face became indignant. "That's not a very nice accusation."

The Chief didn't answer, knowing from his training that people tended to spill more secrets when the person they were talking to stayed silent.

"…I'm not a spy," she said after a minute with a frown.

"Never said you were," the Chief responded.

She blinked.

The Chief decided to elaborate a bit. He had the time to, after all. "You footsteps are silent. Perfect for sneaking up on people to assassinate them, or get information."

Lux raised an eyebrow.

"And you may have noticed we are in the Noxian hallway. Its nice not be heard by the enemy when you're getting military information."

Lux giggled a bit. "Your clever, to have figured this out from just my footsteps."

The Chief didn't answer. He felt no need to agree with that statement; he already knew his capabilities. He had assassinated people while in full power armour, infiltrated asteroid bases with nothing but a skin-suit, infiltrated and captured a covenant flagship with nothing but a pelican, a shortsword, and a squad of marines…

Really, this was pretty much basic stuff for him.

Lux shrugged, conceding. "I was told you were intelligent," she said. "Your right, I was spying on you… but I had no standing orders to do so. I was just curious."

The Chief tilted his head. "No point. You can't copy my armour."

they both stared at each other for a moment, and the Chief realized that his earlier assumption of the girl being a child was wrong. He could see that look in her eyes that indicated someone who had gone through a lot, a look far older than her age.

He resolved not to underestimate her.

Lux stood there, twirling her ankle around. "So…" she began. "I think you're pretty interesting. Would you like to do something?"

"No," the Master Chief said, and left her alone in the Noxian hallway. He was more eager now than before to get that security system up and running, after all.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

"…What is _that?_"

Marin's voice was swallowed by the massive chamber he was in. He stood beside the scientist who was currently employing him, both of them staring out at the object.

They were in one of the caverns farthest away from the central base. Really, it was more of an outpost than anything. It had taken them nearly a day of covert travel to get here, but it had been more than worth the travel time in Marin's eyes.

The object itself was massive, to say the least. It shared the same design as the last machines he had been privileged enough to see, but on a grander scale. It wasn't even close to being completed, though. Only its superstructure had been laid down – the rest was being magically lifted into position around the thing after being consecrated in ritual oils.

Even Marin, a jaded soul at best, had to admit it was incredible.

"It won't be finished in time," the Employer said. He seemed impassionate, despite his mighty project being assembled before him.

Marin glanced at him, not truly understanding.

"It requires far greater power than we can currently muster. As it is, my sorcerers barely can barely awaken its… intelligent core, so to speak."

Marin didn't know what he meant by the last part, but he ignored it. "What do you need of me?"

"Of you? Nothing. I am merely stating that it will be incomplete in time for the main event. Or rather, it will be complete and conscious, but without the power to move by itself."

Marin wondered what he meant by 'conscious'. Did he mean it was an artificial intelligence, like the Piltover police bots?

He didn't say any of that, though. Instead he said, "So we have to make do without it, then."

The Employer turned and looked at him hard. "Yes. And I hope you know what will happen if you fail."

* * *

"_Do you not see how our enemies already gather, waiting to feast on us? Noxus is rallying; they have already hurt us in Kalamanda; killing our ambassador… and now they use daemons to kill one of our greatest advocators for peace, a mighty commander you all knew and loved. So I say to our enemies: If you so wish to kill our people of peace, we shall send you people of war." – Jarvan III, King of Demacia, in a war council trying to authorize the fortifying of Demacian borders._

* * *

**Hi. Just some brief notes, here: I don't mean to make the Chief sound overpowered or stronger than any champ on the rift, I'm merely tryng to convey that he is the strongest. Just imaging Malphite had the strength of a Brute Chieftan, and you'll understand what I was trying to say.**

**Sorry the chapters still are not all that long, but we'll get to the longer ones soon enough.**

**Aaaand just wanted to say i'm really glad people actually enjoy this story, and thank you to everyone who's reviewed. It helps me learn to write better sincee I have no clue what i'm doing.**

**Quick note: for some reason, the site is having this chapter show up as Chapter 19, and I cant seem to fix that. Just to clarify: this is chapter 18. Not 19. apologies if this causes some confusion.**

**wort.**


	20. Chapter 19(real)

Chapter 19: Buried and Forgotten

"But I don't want to," the Master Chief said.

He was currently standing in the main hall of the Institute of War, facing a certain pink-haired enforcer. It was early morning, so the area was rather empty – just the way the Chief liked it.

"Well… I mean, it would be good for ya to get out, y'know?"

The Chief tilted his head and said, "no."

Bi tilted her head back and sighed. "Geez, tin man, you don't make this shit easy."

The Chief stayed silent for a full minute, then turned and began to walk away. He had resolved to himself that whenever he got into a conversation where the other party did not speak for sixty seconds, he would leave in order to save himself time and annoyance.

"Oh, right," Vi called out at random, sounding as if she was speaking more to herself than the Chief. "Caitlyn said you could visit the _Dawn, _if you want."

The Chief turned right back towards Vi.

"When can we leave?" He asked.

* * *

They both stared at the train – a massive, clunky Piltover invention. It levitated half a meter off the ground, most of the vehicles bulk lifted by the large generators contained in various containers scattered about its length. The train was supposed to take passengers straight to Piltover, which was why the Chief was standing there. Caitlyn had left for the city-state over a week ago, and had called Vi back also to help her solve a particularly troublesome case. Vi had also tried to convince the Spartan to come and visit for a few days, too.

Naturally, he had wanted to decline, but the prospect of seeing the _Forward unto Dawn _was too much to pass up. He was eager to get onboard, salvage what he could… and try and comb through the computer systems for what was left of Cortana.

The train's loud whistle broke the Chief's thoughts.

"We should prolly board," Vi said, her mouth stuffed with a cupcake.

The Chief turned to regard her. "Why did I take a carriage here if there was a train?"

Vi blinked and chewed thoughtfully. "I dunno," she said. "Ask Caitlyn when we arrive. She knows all this shit. I just punch things."

The Chief shook his head, moving towards the entranceway with their bags in each of his hands.

Vi had packed for the trip, bringing whatever it was enforcer women bring along on trips. The Chief had stuffed his duffle bag with his easier to carry weapons – the rest were in a hidden location on Institute grounds. He had spent most of the last week combing for such a place, and it had been perfect – but too small for him to sue as a safe house. The search for one of those still continued.

Vi stayed just behind him, finishing her cupcake. She was wearing casual clothes, made of some sort of local leather, and the Chief thought the outfit looked a little bit odd on her – although he just preferred armour in general, so he couldn't really judge.

The doorman who was checking tickets looked over the Chief once and his skin went several shades paler. He reluctantly began to extend his hand forward, readying himself to ask for the Spartans ticket, but then he spotted Vi.

"Ah… Enforcer…" he stammered out, looking a little bit relieved.

The Chief glanced back in confusion, but was pushed forwards by Vi, who just smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the man.

Vi led the Chief to a compartment closer to the front of the train. The Chief placed the bag in a compartment above the seats, and then sat down.

"So," Vi began. "The doorman back there – he's a total wimp. He gets scared of anyone bigger than him."

"Okay," said the Chief, unsure of why the company did not fire the man. If he was unable to perform his job, than he was useless.

"The only reason he isn't scared of me is cuz' he's so used to me. And I'm technically a cop, so it's kinda reassuring."

"Okay?"

Vi stretched out her legs on the seat across from the Chief and said, "cuz were champs, we get on free, which is why he sees me so much. Although I guess I could just get a Summoner to summon us to other cities… but they're dicks, so whatever."

"…Okay…"

The pair of them sat there in silence for a few minutes before she said, "K, I'm gunna take a nap while we travel there. You should get some shut eye, too."

She promptly fell asleep.

"…But it's still morning," the Chief said to himself.

The trip to Piltover took several hours, and the Chief did anything but sleep during that time. Mostly he just recorded the landscape around the train and compiled it into a database that he could use in case he ever needed to cross by this way on foot.

Not that he expected to.

As the train neared Piltover, the landscape transformed into a more urban sprawl. The Chief could see people travelling, automatic carts driving along, and city flags snapping in the wind.

Despite the fact that the train was nearing the city, it seemed to be speeding up. It was a gradual speed up, but the Chief was certain the train was now travelling too fast to safely stop at the station.

The Chief looked to Vi, who was still sleeping on the bench. The Chief glanced around, and then got up. He opened the sliding glass door and poked his head outside, looking both ways. It appeared, at first glance, that no one else had noticed anything wrong. Everyone was still in there cabins, waiting for the train to stop.

The Chief left the room and slid the door shut. He began to walk towards what he assumed was the front of the train. The halls of the coach were long, but the Chief passed through them quickly. He moved past his coach and into the next one, which was identical to his. He walked through that one briskly as well, but examined his surroundings to see if he could find anything off.

Nothing seemed wrong, though. At least, not until he reached the door at the end of the coach.

While his motion sensor did not detect anything nearby, his visor's thermal imaging painted a different picture. There were obvious heat signatures along the floor near the door, signs of some sort of struggle. The Chief just couldn't understand how the people around him hadn't heard a struggle.

He opened the door cautiously, his magnum already out and aiming forwards.

The room he had entered was one of the generator cars distributed around the train. Great copper wires lined the walls, and even under the metal grating of the floor. The center of the room featured a massive crystal; or rather, two crystals. Each one was a half sphere, both facing each other. They were surrounded by a large crystal ball which featured more clear tubes sticking out of it and linking to the copper pipes.

The Chief examined all this in a heartbeat. He followed the thermal trail with his eyes, and found the bodies. He didn't even have to go up to them to know they were dead.

He pressed on, already knowing something bad was happening.

He passed through the car, and found himself in the control room of the train. There were another two bodies piled in the corner, each one slain by a cut to the throat.

The Chief looked up on the roof, and saw a hatch had been left partially open. Whoever had done this had likely already escaped. The Chief wanted to go after him, but knew stopping the train was a bigger priority.

He looked around for something that looked like it controlled the speed, and found a lever. Or what was left of one, anyways. The lever had been broken, the switch stuck in the fastest setting.

The Chief grimaced as he bent down beside it. It was irreparable, that was for certain. The Spartan began to pry the lever housing open, peeling the metal plating off and throwing it aside.

Inside the housing were three tubes. Each one was clear, filled with a different glowing liquid. Copper rings orbited each one.

The Chief was at a loss. It was then that he remembered he had no idea how to work hextech. He looked at each wire, deciding to wing it and assume the brightest glowing one controlled the speed.

But how did he go about slowing down the train?

It was then that he remembered the static. Every time he had come into contact with one of the hextech crystals, it had caused static to wash across his shields. That would naturally mean that the two of them were incompatible, so it would be possible for him to stop the current with his shields.

At least, he assumed that was how it worked. Cortana had never really explained how this stuff worked. Not to mention the fact that the crystal generator in the other room hadn't caused any disruption – but that may just have been the cause of the crystal ball shielding it.

The Chief took a breath and grabbed hold of the tube, and instantly the smell of ozone filled the air. Static began to travel up his arms, his shield flaring brighter and brighter each second. Then, with a large booming noise, his shields detonated and the tube sparked ever brighter than before.

But it didn't stop there. The tube still seemed fine, and static was still traveling along the Chief's armoured frame.

He grimaced, the massive amount of static causing some pain to him. His helmet systems began to flash as the power overload became too much to handle. Other armour system also began to go into red alert, assuming he was in critical condition.

Still he held on. Everything he had experienced so far didn't even match what he had gone through on instillation 04.

The smell of ozone was far stronger now, and steam began to rise off the tube in his hand.

Another booming noise, much more massive than the last one, echoed around the room. The control room went dark, and the Chief experienced a brief moment of freefall before feeling the train hit the ground and squeal to a stop.

"Chief!? What's going on?"

The Chief turned to see Vi in the doorway, her outfit scorched by static from the room behind her.

It was then that the Chie realized his mistake. He had assumed that the brightest tube had controlled speed, but in actuality it must have been linked to the generators powering the train. His shields would have been trying to compete with all the generators, and they had barely won – or barely lost.

"Alright, your explaining this one to Caitlyn," Vi said.

* * *

"Not even five minutes in Piltover and you already stopped a massive train crash," the Sheriff of Piltover said.

_And probably started it, too, _the Chief thought. It was extremely unlikely that the train he had just happened to be on nearly crashed.

Vi and the Chief stood side-by-side, standing in front of Caitlyn and a squad of officers. There had been two squads of officers when the pair of them had stepped onto the platform, but they had quickly dispersed to search the train. Not that it would do the any good: the Chief and Vi had already combed through it and found no trace of any assailant.

"Well, I'm glad you two are okay. And, I have to say," she chuckled then, "you look good."

The Chief and Vi both answered, "thanks," at the same time, and then turned to glare at each other.

Neither of them had left the train unscathed. The Chief's armour was blackened in places with more paint peeling off than before. Static was also periodically flashing across his armour as the shields systems tried to reboot itself. His shields were definitely not as good as they used to be.

Vi, on the other hand, had several burn marks on her skin and her clothes were more tattered than before. Her injuries had all been suffered trying to get through the generator room in the midst of an overload – a testament to Vi's tradition of barging into every situation without any tactical planning.

Caitlyn shook her head. "Alright, you two. Chief, Ezreal is here to bring you to the _Dawn._ Vi, you and I have to start busting that triad."

"Fine." Vi followed the group off to a squad car, leaving the Chief alone with the only non-cop that was in the group of officers – Ezreal.

"'Sup," he said. Ezreal wore a white vest and black pants, looking very classy for someone who was supposedly a scientist/inventor.

The Chief didn't answer.

"Right. Well, let's be off. We should try and get to the _Dawn_ while we still have daylight left." Ezreal turned and led the Chief towards a cart similar to the one he had arrived at the League in.

"Where are they going?" Asked Chief a little bit unexpectedly.

"Who, Caitlyn?" Ezreal opened the door of the carriage for the Chief, then got in after him. "The Triad they're trying to take down has made threats that they're going to bomb sections of the city, so the police are in hype-mode now."

The Chief again did not say anything. He processed the information, and found himself a tiny bit angry. This 'triad' reminded him of the insurrection, the enemy he had been originally created to destroy.

Humans really were universally the same.

"I have to say, your ship is pretty amazing," Ezreal said. "It's full of the most incredible things, and we barely searched even half of it."

The Chief glared at the man. Despite being unable to see the Spartan's face, the glare of his golden visor was enough to make him nervous.

"Don't worry," he tried to assure the Chief. "We aren't messing with anything, just studying."

The Chief looked out the window, down to the area where the _Dawn _was being kept. Despite it being half of its former glory, it towered above the city.

_We'll see about that, _the Chief thought.

* * *

Chief knew instantly that the vehicles were inoperable.

At first glance, they were in their normal positions, polished and ready for battle. However, he could tell easily that they would be unable to threaten a mouse. He could see some wearing on the steel of the chassis', evidence of the sea water ruining parts. He could see the telltale signs of an oil spill, which probably meant the vehicles no longer had anything to run on. And it was unlikely that the weapons would be firing. Unlike the infantry firearms the Chief carried, the vehicles hadn't been protected from the water.

That made the Chief somewhat sad. He would have liked a Scorpion to be at operational capacity. That would be certain to dissuade any would-be assassins.

"Ah, Master Chief!" Heimerdingers voice echoed across the space. The inventor had set up a rudimentary command center in the midst of the vehicle bay, the most intact and stable area on the ship. "I took good care of you ship for you!"

Some unidentifiable hextech device beside the Chief sparked brightly. "So I see," he said.

"Come, come," Heimerdinger called out, and the Chief went towards him.

"Are all the sections cleared out?" The Chief asked.

The Inventor nodded. "All the water has been drained out. We have been trying to clear debris out of the passageways, but that is still in the works."

The Chiefs nodded. That would explain why his weapon shipments had been few and far between – the armouries of the vessel would likely be blocked off, and control panels would be still locked down or waterlogged.

It was then that the Chief remembered something.

"The bridge," Chief said suddenly. "Have you cleared a path to it yet?"

Heimerdinger shook his head. "Debris in front of the door. We need heavy lift equipment to clear it."

The Chief thought about that for a moment. He could clear the debris, easy. He wanted to get to the bridge, for two reasons. The first was to delete any compromising data – he was still sure the enemy (whoever that was) had taken his tech. The second was more personal – a search for his missing companion. If there was any place he could accomplish those two tasks, it was there.

"Follow," Chief said, and began to walk towards the bridge.

It took him less than five minutes to clear the debris. It had consisted of several girders and pipes, all of which he was able to simply push aside. The door had been another matter, though – the panel seemed to have been busted in by one of the fallen girders, so the Chief had to force the doors open manually.

His heart fell upon seeing the state of the bridge. It hadn't been spared the attention of the rest of the ship – it too had been ravaged by the forces of the sea.

He made his way to the central command station which was uplifted form the rest of the deck. Heimerdinger and his scientists began to comb their way around the room, looking at all the advanced technologies.

Normally the Chief would not have let them get anywhere close to the technological wreckage, but the unknown enemy already had the most dangerous tech aboard. At this point, any waterlogged devices they found would not cause any more harm to him. It was the data he was worried about – but they wouldn't be able to access the computer systems anyways. They didn't have the expertise or equipment to do that.

The power was out, so the Chief had to reboot the systems from the bridges' isolated auxiliary generator. From beneath the floor a loud grinding noise began and weak lights flickered on across the bridge.

The computer screen stayed black for a full minute. Then, suddenly, a line of white text appeared.

The Chief knew that the holo-boards would be offline so as to save auxiliary power, so he used the ancient touch-keyboard instead. He began to type out lines as Heimerdinger approached from behind.

"Chief?" he asked, wondering at what the human was doing.

No answer.

"Is everything all right?"

The Master Chief did not turn around. He stared at the screen, not trying to comprehend what the words on it signified.

_**Stop: 0x00X000X02E (0xXC2000, 0xGE3000)**_

_**UNSC D22 DB status: FAILED**_

_**Timestamp status: FAILED**_

_**FeFG001: FAILED**_

_**GeD0001: FAILED**_

_**Datasync: FAILED**_

_**Database acess: FAILED**_

_**Password : FAILED**_

_**X000300: FAILED**_

_**Fef1100: FAILED**_

_**System_load: FAILED**_

_**Nav_semipoint: FAILED**_

_**AI_UNSC_**_ _**CTN 0452-9: LOAD FAILED**_

_**Database cannot be found. **_

_**System will be shut down.**_

The system had not just been shut down or wiped in accordance with the Cole Protocol – the entire system was missing.

Who could have done such a thing?

And why?

* * *

"_Are you asking me if I want to let him leave, am going to let him leave, or should I let him leave? See, while all those sentences may seem alike, they have different meaning. Regardless of which one you meant, you fail to understand one thing: he is a tool. Like a tool, you use it for the betterment of something else. His usefulness far outweighs his detrimental presence. So long as he is shackled by his past, he is usable. And, just like a tool, once his usefulness is ended he will be tossed aside – only in this instance, that involves being sent home, as far away from here as time and space will allow." – High Councillor Kolminye, to her second in command, asking her about her future intentions._

* * *

**Hello. We have finally got to our first arc where the Chief goes to some place other than the Institute.**

**So... srry if this chapter seems a bit rushed, but I wrote it on my phone while I was at a wedding on the weekend, and I just didn't have the time to go back and re-write it. So yeah. **

**right. well, review if you guys have the time to, and I hope you guys come back next chapter?**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 20: This Cave is Not a Natural Formation

"So you believe that this 'enemy' you think exists somehow managed to steal you're … system filled with all the data you have, which they then used to create the weapons and automatons they are using to attack you and various areas around Valoran?"

The Master Chief was currently sitting with Caitlyn in one of her favourite tea shops, sipping tea while he told her his suspicions. Or, to be more accurate, he was standing because his weight had already broken one chair and had ceased drinking the tea after he had shattered the fragile china cup.

"Yes," he replied honestly. The Chief had spent the entire day before trying to boot up all the _Dawns _systems, but to no avail. With most of the data on the mainframe gone – actually, everything except the most basic commands and anything that hadn't been in the localized system – the Chief was stuck. He had the weapons on the ship still, but no longer had access to data, ship-based weapons, or even the fuel stores inside – which in turn meant he had no way of getting the vehicles to work.

Caitlyn shook her head. "There isn't any way that someone could have sneaked by the defences – Heimerdinger set up his turrets _everywhere._ And I really do mean that. I asked him to guard my house one, and I later found a turret in my toilet. Oh, and not to mention the fact that none of us know how to use your tech, so there isn't any way we could have taken it anyways."

The Chief shook his head. "They could have used magic, or stolen it when the _Dawn _was still submerged. Regardless, someone stole and deleted the system after I left Piltover."

Caitlyn sipped her tea and then gently put the cup down. "Chief, I will help you whichever way I can, but at the moment I'm more than a little pressed with this Triad business, so you can't expect much. Once that is done, I can do more, but beforehand… I can't spare enough people to begin anything near a systematic search."

"There is a way," Chief said, gazing at a trail of coloured streamers that a little girl was running with. "Let me search the city myself."

Caitlyn sputtered her mouthful of tea landing on the table. "Absolutely not!" she cried, dabbing at the spilt tea with a napkin. "There is no way I can allow a super-soldier become a vigilante and roam around the city. Already that business with the train caused too much interest in you." She looked as if she was going to say more, and then stopped.

The Chief glanced down at her briefly, then lifted his eyes back to the peaceful view of the plaza. He nodded his head.

Caitlyn let out a small sigh and pushed her plate aside, leaving a couple of shiny coins beside it. "Thank you, Chief," she said, rising up. "I'll help as soon as I can. In the meantime, try and enjoy Piltover, just… don't flaunt your weapons too much. I'd rather not have to arrest you."

The Chief tilted his head fractionally, wondering how the sheriff intended to do that. He was pretty sure her cuffs wouldn't even cover half his wrist.

She walked away, lifting her hand in farewell.

The Chief watched her leave, then turned his attention back to the plaza. He wondered he should leave his weapons back in his room like Caitlyn suggested – then dismissed the thought. No matter how safe she claimed the city was, he knew it was not, and he'd rather have his weapons on him if something did happen. And he wasn't some random civilian, ready to gun down the first person that looked suspicious.

The Chief began to walk down the road, leaving the plaza behind him. There wasn't really much for him to do in Piltover - he wasn't one to walk around just to take in the sights. With his business at the _Dawn _concluded, there really wasn't much keeping him in the city, except for the fact that this was his first real outing. He was a little bit reluctant to cut it short, no matter how boring it may be.

He passed some stalls, and realized he was in a market district of the city. While there were plenty of stores in the city, travelling merchants seemed abundant in Valoran.

He stopped by one stall which featured some jewelry. While he did not care for them, a bright blue one caught his eye – it reminded him painfully of Cortana's light.

"Well, good sir, is there anything that you like?"

The Chief raised his gaze fractionally and saw the stall owner looking at him with a painfully wide smile.

"No thanks," Chief said, and made to move away.

"You sure?" the owner called out. "Something for your lady friend, perhaps?"

"No thanks," the Chief said again, and walked away. He thought about what the man had said, the thing about the lady friend. Was that what you were supposed to buy them? Shiny baubles? Where they hidden shield-generators or something?

The Chief shook his head. Civilian life was way too confusing.

The Chief stepped off the main road and onto the sidewalk, avoiding a speeding car. In the direction he had turned he could see the _Forward Unto Dawn _in the distance.

According to Heimerdinger, the _Dawn _had become a sort of attraction for the city. People couldn't visit it, of course, but it seemed that everyone wanted to be in the same city-state as the warship from the heavens, or whatever it was they had labelled it as.

The Chief didn't care one way or the other, especially now seeing as all potentially compromising data was gone from the ship. The only thing he didn't like was the attention it gave him. The only thing people wanted to see more than the ship was the space warrior it bore.

Those that wanted to approach him were too nervous to do so, however. His general demeanour, Mjolnir and weapons tended to do that.

The Chief resumed walking, his gaze straight ahead. There really wasn't anything interesting around here.

Well, except for that.

Before the Chief had been deployed in any real combat scenarios, the UNSC had ODST troopers launch raids on insurrectionist's depots with the help of bomb-detecting drones. Said drones had all sorts of chemicals stored in their database: man-made ones to natural ones. It could even make assumptions for explosive chemicals that hadn't been seen before based off of its molecular structure. The Chief's helmet had one of those systems, and though he had never really needed to use it, right now it picked up traces of possible explosive chemical compounds on the sidewalk.

His visor lit up the path of the compound, and it trailed off the sidewalk and into a nearby alleyway. While it could be nothing more than hextech fireworks, the Chief decided to follow it anyways, reasoning he had nothing better to do anyways.

The alley way was narrow, especially for someone of his bulk. Eventually, though, it widened out into a side street, albeit a shady-looking one. There were several people around, but the Chief payed them no heed. No one would bother him.

There was a lot more of the chemical on the ground, too. The Chief bent down and tried to examine it. It was oily and red in colour, and that didn't ring any bells in the Chief's mind – not that he expected it to. Really, he was so oblivious to this world that it could just be dish soap – if they even used that here.

"That's explosive residue, alright," A voice said from somewhere behind the Chief.

The Chief rose up, grabbing his assault rifle in one smooth motion and aiming it at the unknown person. His motion sensor hadn't detected anyone near him. Was it broken again?

"Now now," said Graves, holding a hand up. "No need to be so hostile."

Graves was sitting on a low garage roof, and his sitting position hadn't triggered the motion sensor.

Chief mentally cursed. He was letting all manner of people sneak up on him, and that was a serious problem. He'd have to train harder once he got back to the Institute.

"You can't be here," Chief said, which was true. Graves was outlawed from Piltover, and Caitlyn would probably arrest him on sight, league champion or not.

"I got some business to attend to," the Outlaw responded, tossing his cigar to the ground.

The Chief made the connection at once. "Explosives?"

Graves nodded. "The Triad purchases explosives that use that, and I have a bone to pick with them." He grunted. "Cheate' me on too many times."

The Chief considered that. Graves, the outlaw, was here to fight against the Triad, a common enemy to the police force. Did that give him adequate reason to stay here?

No.

"Leave," Chief said, and turned to follow the rest of the trail. While he wasn't all that eager to much in and help the police force bust a crime syndicate, his anti-insurrectionist teachings were much too hard to ignore.

Graves grunted behind him. "That'll take you to their main base of operations," he said. "A warehouse that leads to their underground base – fortified, with enough fail-safes to lock down the whole area long enough for them to escape quickly."

The Chief stopped. "You know another way in," he said, saying it in a way that made it more of a statement than a question.

Graves smiled. "I know another way in. But I only show you if I go with you."

The Chief sighed internally. While he _could _leave this to the police force, he knew it would be faster if he did this himself – and with a lesser loss of lives. He also knew that if Graves didn't show him the second way in, the Triad would bolt, making the job of the police so much harder. And he really wasn't all that eager to spend more time than necessary fighting his way into a crime syndicates base. Unless Graves was bluffing…

"Why?" asked the Chief.

Graves tilted his head with a frown, but the Chief still hadn't turned back and so could not see his expression.

"Why do you want to go with me?" he clarified after Graves didn't respond.

Graves hopped off the roof and walked beside the Chief. His shotgun was strapped to his back, and he had a revolver on his waist. "Hell, I aint the kind of guy that lets a good thing slip away."

The Chief turned to look at him. He should have figured this was just another case of someone taking advantage of his presence. Not that he really minded much; UNSC soldiers did it all the time. Everyone wants to play tag-along with the hyper-lethal supersoldier.

"Okay," Chief said, giving in. It wasn't like he really had anything against Graves, and he didn't want to get into a protracted fight with the Triad. Speed was key here.

* * *

The second entrance was a classic sewer entrance, set into the wall that composed the bridge. It was large enough for a vehicle to drive through, which was evident from the tire marks on the wet paving beside it.

Graves looked at the Spartan, who was crouched beside the entrance, peering through the bars. "See anything?" he asked.

The Chief shook his head. "No guards for a long way."

Graves nodded. "Open her up, then."

The Chief placed his AR on the ground and grabbed hold of the two middlemost bars, pulling at them lightly. The bars popped off, making a gap large enough for both of them to crawl through.

"When I said 'open her up,' I didn't mean rip it apart," Graves drawled.

The Chief shrugged. He picked his assault rifle back up and moved in, walking as quietly as his armour allowed.

It was fairly dark in the tunnel, but the Chief was more than capable of seeing in the dark and Graves didn't complain.

They moved like that for a while, the tunnel slowly growing larger every few meters. As they pressed on, they began to see grate covers on the floor, with light spilling out of them. His motion sensor began to light up with faded red dots, indicating enemies beneath them.

"Wait," Graves whispered, and crouched beside one of the grates.

The Chief stopped and looked back. He tilted his head in question.

"Below us are the storage areas. This is where they'll keep the bombs."

The Chief crouched by the grate also, and saw that he was correct. His helmet sensors were picking up massive amounts of possibly explosive chemicals.

Chief looked at the outlaw. "You know a lot about them," he said.

Graves snickered. "I used to work with 'em," he said. "Swindled them, more like. 'Till they swindled me, and I 'aint never forgiving them for that. Just got sidetracked is all, couldn't get 'em sooner."

The Chief shook his head. Civilian life really was too confusing. At least the Human-Covenant war had been clear-cut, black and white.

He moved to grab the grate, but Graves stopped him. "Wait up," he said. "Need a cigar."

Chief stared at him. Graves ignored it and took his time, slowly making a fresh cigar, and then lighting it.

The Chief shook his head. He reached down, grabbed the grate, and in one smooth motion ripped it out and threw it aside.

The guards in the room below all immediately looked up. Because they were part of a crime syndicate, they were far better trained than the average criminal. Each one began to reach for their weapons, some moving for cover, and one running for the large alarm system mounted on the wall.

Not one of them was able to clear their weapons from their holsters.

Spartan-117 dropped down, hitting the ground with enough force that it broke tiles and sent up dust. With quick, sharp bursts from his MA5C he took out every guard in the room.

Graves dropped down after him, much more gracefully. "Nice," he said around his cigar.

The Chief moved to the first container he saw and opened it, revealing rows of stacked bombs that somewhat resembled ancient dynamite. He noted that each one lacked any way to prime them, which meant they could only be remotely triggered.

He glanced around the room, counting the amount of boxes that were roughly the same size and design as this one: 22.

"We need to disable these explosives quickly," he said. "Then we leave."

Graves frowned. "Then the leadership'll just-"

"We aren't here to start a war," the Chief interrupted. "Disable the bombs. Then we leave."

Graves hesitated for a second as he considered pushing the argument, but let moved to do as he was told. It seemed he wasn't to eager to stay here longer than necessary without his super-soldier companion.

They each got through less than three crates when they heard rapidly approaching feet.

The Chief pointed to one of the doors, and aimed his rifle at it. Graves did the same.

As soon as they opened, they both opened fire. The Chief cut down the majority, and graves took down the rest, but the enemy still managed to let loose a couple of rounds.

"Shit," Graves said, looking back. The Chief followed his gaze, and saw the neat hole the enemy projectile had burned through the crate. But that wasn't what made him concerned.

He opened the crate, which was larger and far sturdier than the bomb-carrying ones.

What was inside made his blood run cold.

Weapons, each one resembling a plasma repeater, were stacked inside. There were also handles of weapons which resembles the energy blades the Mechs had used, back on the attack of the Institute.

The Chief looked around, seeing a bunch more containers similar to this one.

Graves shook his head. "Well, this can't be good."

The Chief grabbed one of each of the weapons and placed them on his back for later study. He then looked around the room again. "You're familiar with these explosives, right?" he asked.

Graves nodded. "Yeah, I had ma' fair share work with 'em"

"What's the blast radius of them," Chief asked.

"Not very large individually," he drawled, thinking. "But the explosive blast becomes greater with each time the magic field encounters more magic, so you put some together and they make a big boom. But they're useless without the dets."

He looked to the Chief. "Why, what're ya thinking?"

The Chief calmly grabbed one of his plasma grenades and bounced it a couple of times in his palm.

Graves smiled. "Yeah, that should about do it."

The Chief pointed to the room that the enemy had entered from, and Graves began running. The Spartan quickly primed the plasma and dropped it in the nearest bomb crate.

In truth, he really didn't want to make this much of a mess in Piltover, but these weapons proved that some enemy was out there with his tech – and he would be damned if he let these criminals use them. The best way to get rid of this, and their operation, was a good old fashioned explosion.

He ran quickly, covering the ground in a few bounds and shutting the door behind him. Not that it would help.

Graves was still running, and the Chief was beside him.

Behind them they could hear the explosion begin.

Graves mumbled. "Well, shi-"

* * *

Caitlyn took the criminal out with a headshot, stopping him from stabbing one of her officers in the back.

They were currently in warehouse 12-b, one of the many that littered this side of Piltover. She had come here with two squads and Vi on the rumor that the Triad was moving weapons here, but that seemed false. There was nothing here, and the entire facility went into lockdown as soon as they had arrived. They wouldn't even be able to search the place as soon as warehouse district management got involved. While the Sheriff was sure the managers were in on the shady dealings here, she had no proof, and more importantly no warrant.

The last few criminals took cover behind a few crates near the far wall.

Caitlyn motioned to Vi. "Care to make a door?" she asked.

Vi smirked. "Sure, cupcake," she said.

Something began to whine on the far side of the room, where the criminals were.

"What's that?" one of the other officers asked, right before a stream of blue bullets impacted all around them.

"Cover!" Caitlyn yelled as Vi tackled her down.

"Why do they have a turret in here?" The Piltover Enforcer demanded. "And why is it shooting FREAKIN' BLUE BULLETS?"

Caitlyn heard one of her officers cry out in pain. Several bullets began to land around the Sheriff, creating patches of scorched, melted ground. She gritted her teeth. "It looks like the Chief's tech," she said.

Vi nodded as she fiddled with the dial on one of her gauntlets. 'Yeah… I think I remember something similar back when those rouge Mechs went crazy-time back at the League."

Caitlyn nodded, trying to make sure her top hat didn't fly off.

"K, cupcake, Imma go in hard, assault and battery style. Cover me, alright?"

Caitlyn nodded, reluctant to let her partner go out into the danger but knowing they would all die from the turret if she didn't.

"On three," the Enforcer said. "One, Two…"

There was a massive explosion. The entire back half of the room collapsed in, blasting all the criminals forward.

Dust spread across the room as debris rained down. The massive wave of heat came next, making it hard to breath.

Caitlyn dropped her file and began to cough just as one of the criminals who was knocked forward landed beside her.

He looked up at her, noting her lack of weaponry. He raised his blackened hand, a crude revolver clutched in his palm.

A massive green shape landed overtop the man, shattering the pavement. The Master Chief calmly reached down and broke the man's hand, causing a scream of pain.

Vi and Caitlyn both stared at the Spartan just as Graves moved up behind him.

"Well, 'aint this jus' a bloody reunion," the outlaw said, his clothing all torn and burned.

"…I didn't even get to three," Vi complained.

* * *

**Hello all. Here we have the second installment in the ark in which the Master Chief goes somewhere other than the League. yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. **

**On a serious note, i seem to be getting so many back-to-back assignments its hard to write anymore. But i'll still have chapters up regularly, but they may be shorter than you guys (and I) might like.**

**oh, and this chapter is appearing as Chapter 21, but its just chapter 20.**

**As ever, review if there was anything you feel is worth reviewing about, because that will help me write better int he future. If not, then I hope you enjoyed the chapter(?) and hope you guys come again next time(?)**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 21: Latchkey

The building was made of white marble, featuring a large staircase leading up to the main entrance. Massive double bronze doors were set into the entrance, each one inlaid with paneling depicting different scenes. Pillars were dotted around the bottom of the staircase and atop it, lending it an ancient, almost god-like look. To the average citizen, it would be imposing, powerful; the perfect place for the Governor of the city.

The Master Chief, however, was unimpressed. He had seen much more magnificent structures in his time, and this was a minor footnote in comparison to them.

"Maybe you should have worn something nice," Caitlyn murmured, fixing her top hat.

They both were standing in front of the building, all because of the events of the day before. Despite Caitlyn's worry that the explosion – and the Chiefs involvement in it – would cause a major ruckus, the Governor of the town seemed to heartily approve of it. He had dismissed all charges made by warehouse district managers, and invited the Chief over for a 'victory celebration,' which of course would include some sort of political manoeuvring – at least, that's what the Chief assumed.

"No," the Chief responded, unwilling to wear anything other than his armour while out of the League.

Caitlyn gave a small sigh. "Well," she began, "get up there. It's never good to keep the Governor waiting."

The Chief looked at her. She shrugged. "I'll come by after, for the party. Try not to destroy anything, okay?"

The Chief nodded, and watched her leave. Once she was out of sight, he ascended the stairs, trying to be as light on his feet as possible. The last thing he wanted was to shatter the precious marble beneath his feet.

He reached the top of the stairs and entered through the large open doors. Immediately, bright flashed of light hit him, each light coming from any one of the dozens of people in the room.

"She told me there weren't going to be any cameras…," the Chief muttered inaudibly.

"Ah, Master Chief!" a cultured voice rang out, audible even over the of voices of dozens of reporters.

The Governor walked through the press of bodies, clearly happy. He was not a large man, but certainly had some bulk on him. He wore a white suit, complete with a red tie and dress shirt.

"Glad you could make it!" he cried, and grabbed the Chief's hand as they were both photographed by the cameras.

_Sure, _the Chief thought. _I couldn't refuse anyways._

It was true. If the Chief had refused the proposal (Which he had been about to do) Caitlyn had warned him that the Governor would more than likely allow the charges to be brought up again. It had sounded like an invitation, but instead had been a demand.

"I want to thank the League of Legends for sending their greatest Champion to our city in our time of need!" The leader of Piltover shouted, and the voices and flashing redoubled.

The Chief could only wonder what was meant by 'greatest Champion.'

"It was by his hand, and the small aid of the police force, that the Triad menace was defeated!"

The Chief frowned under his helmet. It wasn't as If the crime syndicate had been defeated yet, and assuming it is was an extreme tactical liability. And the police force had been more than a 'small help'.

"Now, if you would all excuse me, I must give the hero of our city his just rewards!"

The Governor began to lead the Chief further in, the reporters scattering about as the Governors guards came in to restore some form of order.

Chief was led into a grand office. The Governor took sat down on an elaborate blue velvet chair, and gestured to the seat across from him.

The Chief declined with a gentle shake of his head.

The Governor raised an eyebrow. "Sorry about the reporters back there," he said. "It's just for posterity."

The Chief opted to say nothing.

The Governor steepled his fingers together. "I'm very glad you came to the city," he said. "You have been a great help."

The Chief tilted his head. "The Triad is not defeated yet," he stated in a flat voice.

The leader of Piltover nodded. "I know this. But telling the truth to your people isn't always the best thing to do. Knowing when to keep a secret… that's the true mark of a leader. And you have been a godsend regardless."

The Chief didn't say anything at that, he just lowered his head slightly. While it was something he instinctively disagreed with, he knew it was right. ONI did it all the time, especially so for the Spartan-II. If the people of the galaxy knew what the Spartans truly were…

"So, Master Chief."

The Chief raised his head back up so he could look at the man.

"I would like for you to stay in Piltover, as a Piltover citizen."

_Ah, _the Chief thought. _Now it makes sense._

"No thank you," he responded. He shifted his stance slightly.

The Governor smiled. "I think you would want to consider the offer," he said. "You would live perfectly here, I assure you of this. Better than the League, even. You would lack for nothing, you could participate in the… Institute games whenever you want. You would get much for simply being here."

"No thank you," the Chief said again. It wasn't the kind of offer he would even consider considering – he was not here to help political factions.

The Governor grabbed a bottle out from under his desk. "Shnikker?" he offered, and the Chief declined, not knowing what the beverage was.

"I'm going to be honest here, Master Chief… I need someone like you, here. It would help a great deal, and make this small city more of a force to be reckoned with," the Governer said while pouring a glass. "Many other factions have their eyes set on us, and not even our relationship with Demacia can change that. But you… well, you can. In one day you've-"

"No," the Spartan cut in. "I will be gone from here soon. Until then, I will be staying at the Institute – as per my contract." He said nothing else, and did not elaborate on anything. He always found it better to say the least amount of information as possible, and allow people to draw their own conclusions off of that.

The Governor didn't say anything, his mouth pressed into a thin white line. For a few tesne moments, nothing was said.

Finally, the leader of Piltover grabbed the freshly poured drink and drained it in one gulp. "Think on it," he said. "You'll find the benefits are worth it."

The turned his chair around to face the window. "I'll see you at the party tonight."

* * *

There were way too many people at the party for the Chief's liking.

There were women in fancy dresses, men in beige suits, military officers in military dress. The Chief had evens spotted Caitlyn and Vi around the room twice, wearing a black dress and white vest suit respectively.

The Chief just stood by a pillar near the back of the massive room, content to let everyone else socialize while he watched. Really, he wanted to leave more than anything, but he had some business to attend to and would stay until he saw that through.

Another waitress came by, offering drinks and pastries, and the Spartan declined again, for the eleventh time that night.

The music that carried around the room came from a small box on one of the side tables, and the Chief had to admit it sounded good.

"Spartan?" an eccentric voice asked from beside him.

That would be his business.

The Chief turned to face Heimerdinger fully. The inventor was wearing a greasy black suit, with a bright electric blue tie.

The Chief nodded in greeting, and looked around the room. There were too many people to conduct a conversation here.

"Follow," Chief said, and led the dongers to one of the balconies.

It was dark outside, and there was a slight breeze. The Chief couldn't feel it, of course, but he imagined it would be pleasant.

He cut right down to business. "What did you find out?"

The day before, the Chief had tried to study the Triad weapons he had taken with him, but after a little bit of tampering, he had figured out the weapons had been magically sealed. Unable to do anything further, the Chief had given the weapons to Heimerdinger for study, and had agreed to meet at the party tonight to exchange details. While he still did not fully trust the Yordle creature, he knew he would be unable to figure anything out if he didn't get his help. And at least he was recommended by the Sheriff.

Heimerdinger passed over a rolled up blue sheet of paper. "Much much," he said.

The Chief opened up the roll, finding it to be blueprints. There was a perfect sketch of both weapons on it, detailing various parts of the weapons. Sure enough, there were several parts of the weapons that he recognized: plasma cores, heat sinks and auto-cyclers. The rest was unfamiliar to him.

"Very, very interesting," the Inventor exclaimed. "Weapon-cases sealed with enhanced hextech runes, very rare to find. Whoever made them was sure to prevent tampering. Quite ingenious really. Also, there were many power crystals lining the weapons, for the use of shaping the plasma. The weapons fire by using strong electromagnetic pulses, directed from a larger crystal just under the core, and it is stimulated by another rune of power."

The Chief nodded, absorbing all the information. Regardless of what was contained in the weapons, all he cared about was the fact that there was, indeed, plasma and hextech inside. That meant that someone did have the capabilities to manufacture plasma weapons, and could fuse it with the steampunk technology here.

"Even I did not think to propel energy with power crystals. Whoever did this is very smart," Heimerdinger continued.

The Chief stared out at the night for a second. "Destroy the weapons," he said to the revered Inventor.

"Why?!" the Inventor cried.

The Chief didn't get to finish his sentence.

A bolt of lightning came flashing out of the night, striking the Spartan full in the chest. He was launched back several meters, his shields instantly down. He thought he felt several more impact him, but his body was numb from the initial one and so could not be sure.

The Chief thought he heard shouting around him, thought he heard the pounding of feet, but his helmet systems were down from the massive discharge. The bolt that had hit him had been particularly powerful. His audio was completely out, and the static blasting across his vision was too much for him to make anything out.

_So much for being EMP proof, _he thought. _Doesn't do much good when your enemy uses magic._

He cursed himself for having been ambushed in such a way. How had an assassin gotten so close?

He really was losing his touch.

More pounding of feet. More shouting. There was a commotion going on, the Chief was sure of it, but he couldn't hear a thing. He reached up, his gauntlet mechanisms whining in protest, and unlocked his helmet.

He took several gulps of air, the coppery taste of blood strong in his mouth. He attached his helmet to his waist and stood up.

The room was in chaos. People were running left and right, with some tables thrown up to block the soldiers coming in from the door.

Soldiers?

Gangsters. Triad grunts, carrying the tech that the Chief had destroyed not a day before. One of them noticed him, and a brief look of shock registered on his face before he pointed towards the Chief.

The Spartan dodged to the left as a wave of plasma went over him. He got behind an overturned table, noting the sluggishness of his actions. It was entirely possible that the magic had ruined the motor systems of his armour, or even damaged his electric nervous system interface – or something. Regardless, he was at a double disadvantage – no weapons and sluggish movements.

It might make the fight even for them.

The Chief glanced over the rim of the overturned table. He could see Caitlyn and Vi just in front of him, fighting some of the gangsters in hand-to-hand combat. Other Triad were leaving through a side door, possibly following fleeing guests.

Where were the Governor and his men? He couldn't see them anywhere. Not that it mattered; he needed to get rid of the threats in front of him, first.

Gunshots rang out and impacted around him. apparently all the gun-wielding grunts were concentrating on him.

He pressed his shoulder against the table, and flipped it towards the Triad. It hit four of them, knocking them flat. The Chief charged out, launching himself at the first man.

He went down without a fight. The Chief methodically moved on to the next, snapping his arm and taking his weapon before firing it full auto into his face.

The four that were down were out cold, so he ignored them. He turned to the last four and raked them with weapon fire, cutting them down quickly.

"Damn," Vi said with a cough. Her knuckles looked bloody and raw.

The Chief nodded to the party guests, who were still crouched in fear. "Take care of them."

Caitlyn and Vi stared at him as he left through the side door of the room.

He moved quickly, and found himself at the other end in no time. He moved through that door, too, and found himself in an equally large hall. Some of the Triad were down, slain by the Governors guards, but the rest were advancing on the few remaining guards that ringed the Governor and the rest of the party guests.

The Chief fired in quick bursts as he walked in, the plasma shredding the men it hit. Some of the gangsters tried to turn and engage the new threat in their midst, but quickly paled when they realized it was the still-operational Spartan.

Within ten seconds of the Chief entering the room, all the Triad grunts but one were dead. The grunt stared at the Chief, looked to his weapons, and then stared back at the Chief.

He bolted and dove out the third story window without hesitation.

The Governor and his guest's stared out the window for a full minute.

"Well," the leader of Piltover said. "The League sure picked a hell of a Champ to send our way."

* * *

**'Sup. Again, sorry for the short chapter, and the late update. This is Chapter 21, btw, since likes to keep skipping my chapters ahead by one.**

**Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this one. As always, review if you want. If not, then I hope you continue reading this.**

**AAAAAAAAAAAAND if anyone has any Halo checkpoint titles that they remember, don't hesitate to let me know. I've used up most of mine, and i'm saving the best ones for last. I don't wanna start making up Chapter titles. Rather keep it all Halo-ey.**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 22: I Would Have Been Your Daddy

**TRIAD LEADERSHIP CAUGHT.**

The Master Chief went over the morning headlines twice, just too be sure he was reading it correctly.

It was two days after the events at the party, and the day the Chief was scheduled to leave. He was packed (not that he had brought much) and was ready to go, despite the fact that the train wasn't due to leave until midday.

These headlines, though… that might just put his plans on hold for a bit.

He knew it was extremely unlikely that the Triad, who had remained elusive for so long, would suddenly slip up and allow a higher up to get captured, and so soon after recent events…

Well, he found it all suspicious, to say the least.

He looked out the window of his room, staring at the rain falling lazily from the sky.

The 'leadership' that was caught was most likely in jail, and Caitlyn was sure to have direct access to the suspect. While he was sure the Sheriff had already interrogated the suspect, he figured it wouldn't hurt to do some interrogating of his own. Of course, he'd need the Sheriff's permission for that, but he didn't think it'd be too much of a problem. He was a League Champion, after all, and keeping the peace was part of his contract.

Sort of.

He looked around his room, making sure everything was where he had left it. Once he was satisfied, he got up, opened the door, and stepped out into the rainy day.

There were not many people about, most of them staying indoors on such a gloomy day. The ones that were out, though, carried clear dome-shaped umbrellas and hurried along the slippery streets. The Chief wondered how they were not falling.

He walked down the street, making his way closer to the large building which was the central police headquarters. Well, not large, necessarily. It was only marginally larger than the buildings in the surrounding area, and small compared to any military bases the Chief had ever seen.

A few automobiles passed by, sending water splashing around the sidewalk. Some of the passersby were less than pleased with being splashed by the soaking wet liquid, but the Chief didn't even give it a second thought. Any liquid that touched his shields was mostly vaporized, and any that wasn't didn't come into contact with his armour anyways.

Within no time, he as outside the police building. He made his way inside and to the front desk, ignoring the few individuals lined up in the waiting room.

At first the desk receptionist did no look up, so absorbed in her work. When she finally noticed the presence of someone she raised her head and immediately went several shades lighter. She quickly thrust her head back down and jammed a button over and over again, to apparently no avail.

The Chief stood there for a full minute, wondering what the attendant was doing, before he caught sight of a familiar purple top-hat bobbing down the staircase. The Sheriff of Piltover looked at the Chief with a confused look on her face.

"Chief? What's wrong?" she asked.

The Chief just tilted his head ever so slightly, not saying anything. Caitlyn seemed to have understood what he was saying and motioned him closer, before ascending the stairs.

The Chief followed her through the building, much of it already familiar to him from his first time there. It was bustling with activity, as he had expected it to be.

Caitlyn opened the door to her office, and the Chief followed her in. He remained standing by the single window in the office while the sheriff perched herself on the desk.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" she asked.

"I want to talk to him," the Chief said vaguely.

Caitlyn knew at once who he was talking about, though. She was a cop, after all, and it wasn't too hard to figure out why the Chief would have made the trip out here.

She still shook her head, though. "We've already questioned him," she stated. "He's given us locations of bases and names of people. He's essentially useless now."

The Chief shook his head this time. "…He gave up everything after a single night?"

Caitlyn sighed. "I know what you're thinking," she said. "It's all awfully suspicious. Unfortunately, we've been cornered here, with the press saying we can't get anything done and the Governor praising us for our first big find…"

The Chief didn't say anything at first, letting his silence speak for him. The rain slowly picked up the pace, pattering against the window in an increasing stutter.

"…Fine, you can speak to him," Caitlyn said, giving in. "But don't kill him, please… I don't need to be accused of police brutality. We have enough of that with Vi already."

The Chief nodded. The Sheriff got up with another sigh, and led the Chief out of the room. This time, the pair moved to the opposite side of the building before moving downwards. It was all new to the Chief, so he recorded it all with his helmet.

The staircase took them down to below ground level. It led into a dark metal hallway, with a featureless door at the end.

They waked up to it, the Chief noting the lack of guards in the area. It was odd for a prison to lack any form of security, but it had nothing to do with him, so he didn't care.

The sheriff put her hand to a little crystal globe mounted on the wall, pink light seeping through the gaps between her fingers. After a moment, the iron door clicked twice.

Caitlyn took her hand of the crystal and gestured inside. "The prisoner is in cell 12-C. I'll be waiting out here."

The Chief nodded and opened the door. He walked in, seeing the ranks of jail cells on either side of him. Not all of them were filled, and none of the people inside bothered calling out to the heavily armoured figure walking through.

The Chief noted turrets mounted on the ceilings, each one reminiscent of Heimerdinger's turrets. Several automatons walked the halls, too, but they appeared to be unarmed.

He turned several corridors, finding his way to block C. As soon as he turned the last corner, his assault rifle snapped up, tracking the man that stood in the dimly light hallway.

After a moment of hesitation, Chief lowered the weapon again. It wouldn't be good to fire an automatic weapon in here.

"Graves," he greeted. The person in question turned his head towards the Spartan, and grunted.

The Chief walked closer after noting the outlaw lacked any weapons. "I thought you had left town," the Spartan continued. "You should have."

Graves grunted again. "I nearly did, 'till this son of a bitch got himself caught." He flicked his head towards the cell in front of him.

The Chief looked into the jail cell, seeing at once that it was the supposed 'Triad Leadership.'

"How did you get in?" The Chief asked Graves, still staring at the gangster who had yet to lift his head.

"It 'aint hard to break in – and out- o' places like dis."

The Chief nodded, and crouched down by the man in the jail cell.

"He won't say nothin'," Graved said gruffly. "Already tried. He's one of them guys that screwed me over, for sure, but he's as mute as a damango."

The Chief ignored the outlaw, focusing instead on the prisoner. "Why?" Chief asked.

He got no response. The man just sat there, unmoving and barely breathing. The Chief wasn't even sure he was alive.

The Chief turned his attention back to the Outlaw. "You knew him?"

"I jus' said that, didn't I?"

The Chief elaborated. "Was he someone to let anything slip?"

Graves tilted his head, thinking. "No," he said after a few moments. "The first to mock, second to bolt, last to speak."

The Chief nodded his head. "Then why did he give out information to the police?"

Graves grunted again, but this time it turned into a hacking cough. The Chief figured it would be from the chemicals in the cigars he seemed to be fond of. "I didn' know that," he said. "That… doesn't seem like him."

Still the figure in the cell didn't shift.

Graves gave a sigh. "I wanted 'o kill 'im," he said. "But figured it would be better to watch him rot. At least for a little while."

The Chief looked at Graves, and gave an inaudible sigh. "You should leave," he said. "Before you're caught."

Graves stared at the figure for a long moment, and then nodded. "You're a good man, Spartan," he said, begging to walk away. "But I still 'aint forgiven you yet for that time on the rift."

The Chief tilted his head. He knew what time Graves was talking about: the time he had killed Graves' team with Graves' own ultimate.

The Chief stayed there for ten more minutes, watching the prisoner to absolutely nothing at all. After that he returned to Caitlyn, who sealed up the prison with another press of her hand.

"I'm guessing you did not learn anything useful," she said.

"I want permission to eliminate the Triad," the Chief said in a voice that made it seem more of a command than anything else.

"Wha-aaa-aa?" Caitlyn sputtered out.

The Chief did not answer, taking the lead when Caitlyn lagged behind.

"I can't allow you to do that," she said, going back into step with the Chief.

The Chief stared at her. "I can get it done quickly."

Caitlyn shook her head. "You may be a Champion, but you can't do that. And you can't stay in town indefinitely, either. Even Champions have a limit on how long they can stay."

The Chie didn't say anything. He allowed Caitlyn to lead him back to the front door, staying silent all the way.

"Chief… I want you to help, but I just can't allow it. Please, just let us handle it. Go back to the League, fight in some matches. We have this."

The Chief looked down at the sheriff and after a moments hesitation, he nodded. He opened the door, and went back out into the rain.

* * *

The train station was full, people shuffling all around and calling out to each other before they left. The Chief wasn't doing any of that, of course. There was no one there that cared to see him leave.

Steam and static electricity bled from the various chimneys scattered about the vehicle, adding to the foggy interior of the station. The Chief wasn't so sure that the static coming off of it was safe, but people didn't seem to care, so he didn't either.

He began to walk towards the train, were people were already boarding.

"Master Chief!" an eccentric voice called out from behind him.

The Chief turned, wondering what the revered inventor was doing here.

Heimerdinger ran up to the now stopped Chief, panting slightly, his wild hair even wilder. Several assistants in white lab coats trailed behind him, also panting.

"I… wanted to say… that…" Heimerdinger stopped to catch his breath. "I just wanted to say that I have been drawing sketches up, and I think I would be able to recreate you technology!"

The Chief tilted his head. "…And that was important enough to run and inform me about?"

Heimerdinger nodded his head enthusiastically.

The Chief looked back to the train, then again at Heimer. "Can you repair the vehicles aboard the _Dawn_?"

Heimerdinger nodded again, as enthusiastic as before.

The Chief thought about it for a minute as the smoke from the train intensified. Did he want to allow the abhuman to mess with more human tech, and cause potentially more harm?

His first thought was no, but this was a situation that was different than he was used to. He had none of the advantages he was used to, while his as-of-yet unknown enemy was using weaponry that was better than what he had. It wasn't like he really had much of a choice, in the end.

"Okay," he said. "But keep it secret."

Heimerdinger, for the third time, nodded enthusiastically.

The Chief nodded, and turned towards the train.

It took him five more minutes to board, most of the people moving aside for him. Whether it was from his imposing presence or his status as a League Champion, he wasn't sure, but he didn't complain about it.

Once on the train he got into a cabin that seemed to be private. He kept his gear by his feet; content to stare out the window as the train slowly pulled out of the station, and continued to stare as the scenery changed. He was still staring, therefor, when the train stopped abruptly.

Naturally, the Chief bolted to his feet, hand on the gladius sheathed at his side. He could hear no sounds that indicated any fighting, but that could mean anything. He opened the sliding door that separated his cabin from the rest of the train and peered outside.

An attendants face stared right back at him. The Chief looked over the man, first ahead and then behind him. After checking that the coast was clear, he looked back to the attendant and asked, "Why is the train not moving?"

The attendant was far calmer than Chief expected. "Demacians, sir," she said. "New protocols have them searching anything that goes into their territory, including the train."

The Chief blinked under his helmet. "…Why?"

The attendant blinked, probably confused as to why she was being asked such a question. "They are paranoid about Noxians…I guess…sir?"

The Chief nodded and slammed the sliding door closed. He returned to his seat and stared out the window again, watching the soldiers that only now came into view.

He opened his bag of gear and switched out his MA5C for the M392 Designated Marksman Rifle inside. He removed the magazine and pulled back the bolt to eject the round in the chamber. He put the 7.62 mm back inside the magazine and loaded it again, pushing the bolt forwards to chamber the round, before setting the rifle in his lap.

That was how the Master Chief sat, from the moment the Demacians began searching the train in earnest to the moment he arrived at the institute.

* * *

**And here's another chapter. Its not so long, but im happy I got one out. So, uh, thanks to the people who gave me checkpoint titles, because I have a couple more I can use now. Thanks.**

**And... that's pretty much it. Thanks for actually reading, guys. it means a hell of a lot, since I'm in the belief that this story sucks.**

**Wort?**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 23: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

The Master Chief sat on plush couch located in his room inside of the Institute of war. He was in the process of re-assembling his M41 rocket launcher. While it didn't actually need maintenance, Chief did not have the luxury of test firing the thing while he was short on ammunition, and he really didn't want to risk a backfire either. So he just settled with making sure every inch of the weapon was meticulously swabbed clean.

It was boring work, even for him.

The Chief found it faintly amusing how ever since he arrived at the league, he was constantly bored. It just went to show how useless hyper-lethal vectors were without a war to fight. Well, technically the counted as fighting, but the Chief didn't really consider it as such. It was a war game, and all that did was keep him primed.

At least the excursion to Piltover had been interesting. Enough to cut the edge off of his boredom, at least. Even so, despite only being back for a single day, he was wishing he was out again.

He had visited the Summoners first thing upon arrival, letting them know of what had occurred in Piltover, but they had brushed it all off like they usually did. And apparently they were still having difficulties finding his home universe, but that was expected. The Chief was fairly certain by now that they were holding back. There wasn't anything he could do about that, though.

There was a _snick _as he slid rockets stock back into the metal casing. The M41, like most UNSC weapons, was fairly easy to take apart and put together. Most of the pieces fit neatly into place, all of them featuring some sort of magnetic rail system to keep things together.

Hit motion sensor pinged blue, indicating someone in the hallway. He could hear the person's footsteps, too, and because the Chief was, well, himself, he could easily tell who it was. That was why when Riven stepped through the unlocked door he was finishing his launcher, not aiming his assault rifle at her head.

"Why does it look like a warzone in here?" The Exile wondered aloud, not expecting an answer from the green giant.

She was surprised when she got one.

"Home decorating," the Chief said, calmly fitting the bulky clasp that opened the barrels back into the frame.

Riven gave a muted huh noise before carefully entering the room, watching the Chief for any signs that he would pull put a weapon.

He just sat there, finishing up his launcher.

She took another step, still watching him.

Still sitting there with the massive firearm.

She took the last few steps and plopped down on the floor in front of the table.

The Chief ignored her, focusing on getting the rocket launcher assembled. If it was anyone else, he sure would not have allowed them to see how the rocket fit together, but he knew Riven had no political affiliations and the majority of the factions out there had something against her, so he considered this relatively safe.

He snapped the trigger and its guard back into place, and then began to re-assemble the device that allowed the M41 to lock onto targets.

Riven just sat there, head tilted, looking as if she wanted to start a conversation but didn't actually know what to say.

For the next few minutes, the only sound in the room was the clacking of firearm parts.

"You know," Riven said at last, "It's been weird not seeing you walking around the halls with that heavy armour of yours."

The Chief shrugged, uninterested. "I went out," he said.

"Yeah, I know that," Riven snorted out. "You could have said you were leaving, at least."

His armoured shoulders rose fractionally as he shrugged again. "I was unaware it mattered."

"You were…" Riven blinked. "That makes no sense. You always tell your friends when you leave, so they don't worry."

The Chief stopped fitting pieces together for a single second before resuming. "Sorry," he said monotonely.

Riven shook her head, but didn't say anything further. Maybe she realized the Chief didn't enjoy the line of enquiry, or maybe she just got bored of it, but the Chief was grateful either way. Socializing still was not his strong suit.

Silence, with the exception of the snapping noise of the parts, descended on the room again.

Riven coughed. "Don't you get uncomfortable in all that armour?" she asked, trying to make some sort of conversation.

The Chief didn't answer.

"You know, isn't it heavy?" she elaborated.

The Chief shook his head, but his attention was still on the weapon. "Muscle fibre bundles, hydraulic pistons and servos make the armour easy to wear."

Riven let out an 'hm' noise as she tried to wrap her head around what the Spartan had told her. "So if it's easy to wear… can I try your armour on?"

The last piece of the weapon, the rotating barrels, clunked into place. The Chief raised the weapon to his shoulder, testing the weight and heft again. He pressed the test button a couple of times, watching the barrels rotate smoothly each time.

"Easy for me," the Chief corrected, setting down the launcher. "Without my ceramic bone implants, you would be crushed flat. Boneless."

"Ah," Riven said a grimace on her face. The Chief assumed that she did not enjoy the prospect of being turned into a pancake. "How 'bout I just try the helmet on?"

"No," the Chief said. "Classified."

It was the easiest thing for him to say in this situation. She probably would be able to take the weight of the helmet (Maybe), but the Chief was anxious to avoid that. Even if it was by accident, there was a chance that she would see something that she was not authorized to see.

Not that it really mattered, seeing as how his unknown enemy possibly had the _dawn's _database… but still, this was something he wouldn't do.

"…Okay?" Riven said, obviously not buying the excuse.

Since the Chief was finished with the Launcher, he sat immobile on the sofa, staring at Riven. Riven was less than comfortable with his, so she began to fidget with even the smallest things.

"Ah… so… are you going out for the harrowing?" She asked, scratching the back of her head in what the Chief was coming to realize was a nervous habit.

"Harrowing?" Chief asked, his voice just slightly changing from its usual monotone.

"You don't… Well, the harrowing is kind of… It's like… uh…," Riven paused, searching for the right words. "Well, it's kind of hard for me to explain. I don't really understand it myself, so…"

The Chief rose up suddenly. He grabbed his sword and magnum from where he had set them down and sheathed them before moving towards the door.

Riven blinked and then frowned. "Where'r you going?"

"To find out what this 'harrowing' is."

* * *

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to find out what the harrowing was than the Chief had initially assumed. Out of the five champions, six aids, and two Summoners he had talked to, he had received thirteen different explanations. Most of them were unrealistic, too, which was starting to irritate the Chief.

Riven had parted ways with him some time ago, saying that she had a previous appointment with Irelia – whoever that was. The Chief found himself somewhat sad that he was wandering by himself again, but didn't pay the emotion much heed. His feelings were irrelevant.

He wandered about the hallways on the ground floor, the light entering through the sloping windows causing the white marble floor to shine. The Chief had to polarize his visor slightly to compensate.

Eventually he wandered into one of the park spaces of the league. The green grass shifted slightly in the breeze.

The Chief glanced over the park, trying to find a familiar face. There were none.

"Ah, Spartan. What brings you out here?" A grinding, melodic voice asked.

The Chief turned around too look at Thresh. The warden was a specter, a creature without true mass, and so he did not appear on the Chief's motion sensor – as the Chief had learned on the rift several times. Thresh was one of the champions that the Chief frequently was paired with and against.

The Chief tilted his head in greeting, but didn't say anything.

The specter laughed. "So silent for one so young – tell me, what is it that burdens your soul?"

Chief turned away. Thresh's words, as always, bothered him. They tended to be laden with obscure meanings and references that he could not understand, and not understanding something was one step away from admitting defeat. And he didn't lose.

"I'm trying to figure out what the harrowing is," Chief responded. Staying silent around the ghost never really worked.

"Ah, the harrowing," Thresh hummed. "Such a glorious time of festivities and the spilling of souls."

The Chief blinked. "Spilling of souls?"

Thresh nodded. "People go around sharing gifts of sweets with one another, dressing up so they can scare the evil spirits away – not knowing that the spirits cannot be scared away. And the souls they claim; such lovely screams they make…"

"…I see."

"Ah, but you do not. Or rather, you understand without knowing. The black mist claims what it must, for the shadows always hunger. The festivities do no work where there is not genuine energy to repel the mist – and it is difficult to repel."

The Chief stared at the chain warden, wondering briefly why it looked so happy while talking about souls being claimed.

"Can I kill it?" The Chief asked, somewhat predictably.

Thresh tilted its head. "Can darkness ever be slain?"

The Chief did not respond to the question. The answer was painfully obvious.

"Ah, 117, you take this too seriously. Give candy out to your friends, enjoy the festivities. The darkness I speak of has never reached this place – I jest at your expense." Thresh began to laugh.

The Chief stood still, silent, until Thresh moved away. He was a quarter thinking about how to defend himself and quarter feeling silly at what he had just heard, and half thinking about what candy to get.

* * *

_The next night_

Riven heard the knock at the door, and it startled her. She was unused to having visitors, especially ones that knocked, so it was surprising enough for her to have dropped the remote that controlled the hextech television. Not that the darned thing ever worked – static just played across every channel.

She opened the door without bothering to ask who it was. Most assassins didn't knock anyways.

It was the Master Chief.

She raised a white eyebrow, a little bit confused. "Sup?"

The Chief tossed something, and instinctively she caught it before acknowledging what it was.

She looked at her palm and stared at the bundle of chocolates now in it. She looked abck up at the Chief, her second eyebrow raised.

The Chief shrugged and stepped back out into the hallway.

Riven smiled as she popped one of the chocolates in her mouth, the sweet thing melting one her tongue.

"So, what are you going out as?" She asked, closing the door and stepping outside with the Chief.

"A Spartan," the Master Chief stated, which earned a smile from the Exile.

"Fine, then," she said. "But don't scare everyone else away- I want sweets."

* * *

**Eh... really sorry, guys, but this weeks been hell for me. Ignoring homework, my computer actually blew up. Or rather, one of the RAM chips decided to spontaneously combust, but it had the same effect. SO, for the last few day I have no access to my computer, and when I finally repaired it I had to do three assignments and get a chapter out. So I sincerely apologize for no uploading sooner. If I believed in fate, I wold say someone really doesn't want me writing this story...**

**Anyways, I know the Chapter is short and kinda weak, but its better than nothing, I would assume. I'm halfway done another chapter, so expect it out soon.**

**Peace.**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 15 - Delusions and Grandeur

"Just try it, at least."

It had been a week since the Chiefs return to the Institute of War, and a couple of days back for the person he was currently sitting with. True to the High Councillors word, her Summoners had been too busy to attempt any serious effort into locating the Chief's home, so he was stuck here for the foreseeable future. He'd been trying to make the best of it, learning champions names and being lees cold than usual. Not that he liked it.

He had ended up going into town to purchase a replacement for his knife. While he did not really need it, he wanted to an excuse to get out of the Institute for a bit. And there was no such thing as having too many weapons, after all.

Naturally, as soon as the Chief left the shop, he was ambushed by a familiar mass of pink hair, because for some reason no one wanted to leave him alone. After much insistence by Vi, he was led to a shady bar so they could 'talk'.

And now she was trying to get him to drink alcohol. While he could, because he was technically of duty, he thought it was a bad habit to get into.

"No," the Chief said once again. Vi sighed exaggeratedly and brought his mug closer towards her.

"More for me," she declared, draining her own beverage. She set it down with a bang and wiped her mouth with her hand.

The Chief glanced around the bar, taking in the other patrons. It as evening time, so the more scummy ones were begging to come out. How they avoided the city guards, he would never know.

Although, maybe the guards didn't care about that kind of thing. This was not the UNSC, after all.

"So." Chief turned his attention back to Vi. She gave a smirk. "When're you gunna ask Riven out?"

For once, the Chief could not maintain his neutral face. His eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward a bit, incredulous. The question had caught him completely off guard.

"What?" he sputtered out, barely managed the words.

"Oh, c'mon. we all know you have a thing for her."

The Chief found his trained, military posture rapidly deteriorate. "No."

"No one spends that time together and aren't a thing."

"We. Are. NOT. A. Thing."

Vi chuckled. "Well, you had me fooled. In fact, you had most of the institute fooled."

The Chief sat back and gritted his teeth slightly. "I need allies," he said. "Nothing more."

He couldn't understand why Vi was getting on his nerves. It wasn't like him to get angry. Then again, it wasn't like him to travel to different dimensions, either.

"And it sure is nice when those 'allies' have benefits, am I right?"

The Chief blinked. "I don't understand," he said, truthfully. Many civilian terms were unknown to him, and those he did know he could not grasp the meaning of. It would be so much simpler if everyone used military talk and hand signs.

It was Vi's turn to blink. "I… you… forget it."

They sat in an awkward silence. Well, awkward for Vi. Chief didn't really care one way or another if they talked or not.

"Chief," she said hesitantly. "Ya know it's okay to get attached, right? You're not in the military anymore."

"Attachment is a tactical weakness," he stated. Those were words that had been imprinted in his mind from a young age.

Vi snorted. "Yeah, right." She reached forward and gripped the Chiefs hand in an arm lock pose. "Attachment makes you strong. Soldiers fight harder when there's something to fight _for. _If they have good enough reason, they'll dive into the infested pits of the void itself."

It was her choice of words that triggered the memory. Him, fighting thorough a horde of flood creatures in the infested hulk of High Charity to rescue Cortana. Despite overwhelming evidence that she had been infected, Hood had allowed him to go. Why had he gone? There was a good chance she would have been no help whatsoever. It went beyond the promise that he had made her. And why had Hood allowed him to go? He didn't even think it was worth it. And why had the Arbiter come to save him? Half-Jaw had stated that the Arbiter was too precious to risk boarding the hulk of High Charity.

He was shaken out of his memory when Vi let go of his hand to sip her – his – drink. "You know," she said, "you're hands 'r softer than I expected."

The Chief blinked again. He still didn't understand why or how civilians changed topics constantly.

Military talk would be so much easier.

He thought about it for a moment. "Gauntlets," he stated. Looking at his hand and flexing it. "I have not held a weapon in my real hands for over twenty-five years of war." Truthfully, it was probably the cause of the armours gel-layer, but he didn't mention the whole gel layer stuff to Vi – it would probably just have confused her. Or maybe not; she was pretty tech-savvy.

Vi shook her head. She still hadn't grasped the concept of such a war. While she thought fighting was fun, she couldn't image fighting for that long. Anyone would be exhausted half way through that.

Chief glanced around the shady room, which was slowly filling up with more patrons. He reached a hand to his face, only to find that he was sweating, which was odd. His enhanced body made sweating – except in the most extreme of circumstances – impossible.

Maybe the memory had more of an impact him than he had realized.

"I'm going to use the restroom," he declared, and rose up, not waiting for a response back.

The restroom was, naturally, a shithole. The no longer white tiles were cracked and ripped from the walls. The glass above the sink was shattered, as if someone's head had gone through it, and the floor was broken as if by heavy footsteps.

All in all, it was still better than all the places the Covenant had visited.

He went to wash his face, uncaring of the cracked and dirty porcelain sink. His enhanced immune system would block out small diseases.

As the water ran between his hands, he looked at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His face was pale, his hair still uncut. The crack ran down the middle of his face, making the two halves appear unaligned with each other. He knew that if Vi were here to see it, she would have made a connection between it and something regarding his current state of mind.

He chuckled in his mind, but the sound never made it to his throat. He wondered about Vi, for a minute. She was the least likely person out of the limited group of people that he knew to give him life advice, but here she was, doing that. It was odd, in a way; yet in another way it made more sense than anything else.

This time his chuckle left his throat.

After several more long minutes, he turned away and left the room, feeling slightly more refreshed. Of course, that feeling didn't last very long.

Vi was sitting at the table, cradling her drink, her face a bright, angry red colour. There was a man sitting beside her in the booth, and two more standing beside the tabl. Chief had been gone for less than five minutes and already people were harassing her.

"Get away if you like your face," she said through clenched teeth. Or maybe it was a smile. The Chief couldn't tell one way or another.

He moved towards the table, knowing that Vi would do something rash and hoping to avoid it.

"C'mon, sweetie. Don't be like that. Me 'n the boys just wan' keep you company," said the man beside her, leaning in far too much.

Vi punched the man in the face.

He feel back, clutching his now broken nose. "You BITCH!" he cried, blood dripping between his fingers. The other two men moved to their downed leader, glaring menacingly at Vi.

"You're gunna pay," said the taller of the two.

"No one's going to be paying anyone," the Chief said, suddenly right behind the two men.

They had to crane their necks up to look at him, for he was a head and a half taller than the both of them. They were both pretty short men, after all.

"And just who the hell do you think you are?" said the shorter of the two, moving his coat back to show a gun strapped to his waist.

Less than a second later, the Master Chief had his knife out and pointed at the man's throat. His eyes crossed as he tried to stare at the blade so dangerously close to him.

"A Demon," said Chief with a small, wry grin. All three of the men paled, thinking that it was quite possibly true.

The room went silent, everyone staring at the development in their midst. This was probably the nights entertainment for them.

"We were just leaving, you know," said the leader, who was still on the floor. His two compatriots nodded their heads vigorously. Well the shorter one tried to, at least. It was hard with a knife at his throat.

The Chief let a tense few seconds go by before sheathing he knife. "Go," he commanded, and all three men scrambled away, shooting dirty looks back at them.

"Demon," chuckled Vi. "Nice touch."

The Chief shrugged his shoulders. "That's what my enemies used to call me."

Vi chuckled even more at that, and the Chief allowed himself to smile too.

"Why didn't you just tell them you're a league champ?" he asked. "They would have left you alone."

Vi drank the rest of the alcohol. "I like to fight my own battles," she said. "Plus, if they didn't recognize me right off the bat, what makes you think they would have believed me anyways?"

The Chief shrugged again.

"You know I could have handled myself, right?"

The Chief nodded. "I'm sure. I just lessened the causalities." He looked towards the door.

Vi followed his gaze. "Wanna go?" she asked.

The Chief nodded. "Bars don't seem to agree with me," he said.

VI chuckled again, but didn't protest. A few minutes later they were walking down the road, headed back to the institute.

"What was the point of the conversation?" asked Chief. He hated spending his time doing nothing of value.

"Do friends need a reason to hang out with each other?" Vi shot back, seeming quite serious. She didn't look at the Chief, so she was unable to see his reaction of complete shock.

He actually had to stop for a moment. He didn't recall, at any point, even acting remotely friend-like to her. In fact, he had punched her. And she still considered him a friend? Without any commitment on his part?

Was that how this worked?

Vi turned back. "What are you doing? Tired yourself out already?" she snorted. Chief assumed from her tone that she was amused. At what, he didn't know.

He moved up to join her, and they resumed walking in silence.

"For a guy that isn't looking for a relationship, you sure do hang out with a lot of females," Vi said, out of the blue.

The Chief just shook his head and sighed. "Coincidence,' he replied.

"Maybe your subconsciously looking for – "

"No," he said. "And please stop trying to psycho-analyze me."

"Oh yeah, Tin Man? Make me."

Chief glanced at her sidelong. "Ok. I'll call the Sheriff over here and she can see how tough and un-caring you really are."

Vi opened and closed her mouth a few times like a fish, then turned a bright red. She mumbled under her breath a bit.

They walked on for a few more steps in silence before Vi said, "Just because I'm trying to help you doesn't mean I'm soft. And my gir- my partner doesn't have to know about this."

"Agreed."

They reached the main plaza, recently rebuilt after the devastation from a couple of weeks before. Against the objection of the Chief, the automatons had been carried away and destroyed. The human bodies had gotten funerals. It would have made a lot more sense to keep the automatons for future study, but apparently League officials cared more about feelings than tactical advantages.

"Alright, I still have some shit to do. I trust you can make it back to the League without causing a war?"

The Chief smiled a small smile, nodding.

"C ya," she said, walking away backwards. "And ask her out, you big metal can."

The Master Chief shook his head and scowled, but he watched her leave anyways, making sure she was okay.

* * *

_ Elsewhere_

"I want to make sure you are ready and committed to what is to come."

Marin nodded, annoyed that his employer even had to ask. He had signed the contract, had he not?

"Good," the Scientist said. "We shall be like a storm, descending upon Runterra, as unstoppable as the elements themselves."

Marin tilted his head slightly, enough to make his next statement seem like a question. "I except that you will adhere to the terms of my contract?"

The Scientist smiled coolly. "Of course," he said smoothly. "Innocents that do not get in our way will not be harmed. Your honour will not be stained."

Marin nodded content. While the question he had asked may have been a little bit redundant, he liked to be sure – one of the few things he had in common with his employer.

He stood in the room, waiting for dismissal. The Scientist had other plans, though. He stood up. "Come with me."

Marin followed his employer through a door at the back of the office. It took them to another metal walkway, similar to the entrance to the lab, but this one was above a far, far larger room. It was cavernous; it stretched out farther than he could see in either direction. There were lines upon lines of the new-model mechs and more besides. Massive four legged walker mechs, ground vehicles, air vehicles, and augmented humans that Marin himself had supervised the creation of. Everything was assembled into blocks, companies of troops, each a piece of the larger battle force.

It was an army large enough to threaten any of the city-states of Valoran. He turned to stare at his employer.

"This is just the vanguard army," the Scientist said. "My factories can now produce this many troops per week, thanks to this." He patted the odd device that had helped him propel his research forward. "And I already have another army nearing completion. And as soon as we complete our major objectives, I can create this many troops per day."

Marin was impressed. He even whistled appreciatively.

"No longer will humanity loose hundreds of troops in each war. Automatons are the next step in warfare. We can what my former employers never had the balls to do – rule this world."

The Scientists voice practically dripped with venom. Marin only knew little of his employer's former work – something about sentient mechs and necromancy. All he really knew was that his former employers had had him rebuild one of their favoured soldiers with his technology, but they were unwilling to take the next step they needed to rule the world, like the Scientist had told them to do. They did not trust untested and relatively new Techmaturgy, despite its obvious effectiveness.

Dangerous, they called it.

He wanted to prove them wrong. He would prove them wrong.

Marin was distracted from his thoughts by a blue, holographic light coming from the machine. It depicted all the forces he would have at his command – a fraction of the army assembled below him.

"Are you sure that is enough?" he inquired.

The Scientist nodded. "Yes. The rest of the troops are needed elsewhere."

Marin nodded. He already knew the battle plan. After all, he had helped devise it. It would keep the enemy on their toes and jumping at every shadow in the dark, spreading their forces thin.

Below was the noise of squealing, tortured metal. The far, massive bar doors were slowly opening, revealing the monstrosity within. With pounding jabs it moved forwards, each one of its steps marking the floor and propelling its massive metal bulk towards the center of the battle lines. Despite the machine being so massive, it nimbly avoided the automatons beneath its feet.

As it growled to a stop, its main weapons began to glow a sickly green colour.

"Now," the Scientist said. "Now."

* * *

**Finally I get to the point where I can get the ball rolling. Maybe I was too eager for it and rushed this chapter out, but Meh. I guess i should just say: Dun worry there is still a lot to to go before this story is finished, because i've gotten some messages or pm's (W/e their called) about when the story is ending and if I can make it longer. Or something.**

**So, uh, review if you feel like it. Everything allows me to write too a higher quality. If not, then enjoy the.. week?**


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